


Second Chance at First Love

by Meldy_Writes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hufflepuff Reader, Muggleborn Reader, Reader-Insert, he's just not because that was bull and also not fun at all, older Sirius doesn't get enough love you guys, straight up he's not fucking dying in this one, this work is all about fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-12 19:35:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19235716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldy_Writes/pseuds/Meldy_Writes
Summary: The classic love story: Girl loves boy. Boy thinks of Girl as a sister. Boy gets framed for his best friend's murder and gets sent to prison for twelve years. Girl continues to pine, Boy breaks out of jail and begins to fall for Girl, not knowing that she's always loved him. Boy and Girl's godson is really tired and wishes they'd just get a room.





	1. Then

The first time Sirius noticed (y/n) (l/n) was in the fourth year.

He and James had pulled some dumb prank on a group of Slytherins who’d said something awful about Remus two days prior. Revenge had been sweet, but also very short. In the aftermath of their game, there were the shouts of angry sixth years bounding towards them and they had to make a quick egress.

As they rounded a corner, James pulled him into a secret passage, neither one sparing a glance at the Hufflepuff girl sitting on a bench opposite their hiding spot, dwarfed by the frankly gargantuan book about herbology seated in her lap.

The Slytherins ran by, huffing and puffing, stopping abruptly in front of the boy’s hiding spot to question her.

“You. Hufflepuff. Have you seen a couple of ponces from Gryffindor run past?”

Sirius thought this was it. There was no way that the girl hadn’t noticed them. No way she wouldn’t rat them out, but to his surprise the girl simply shrugged, her bell-like voice coming out bored as she said, “nope.”

The boy had scoffed, uttering something like ‘useless’ before turning the corner and beginning to run off in search of the two boys again.

“They’re gone.” The girl informed them, not bothering to even look up from her studies.

“I didn’t think Hufflepuffs liked lying,” James stated as he squeezed out of the secret passage, attempting to get out at the same time as his friend and struggling to fit.

The girl didn’t look up from her book as she spoke, “I didn’t lie. I haven’t _seen_ anything but the pages in this book,” her statement was permeated when she flipped the page, “either way, I’m no snitch.”

Sirius was blown away by this girl. Up to this point, he’d thought of Hufflepuffs as goodie-two-shoes doormats that were too innocent to partake in even a quick snog, but this girl, she didn’t seem a thing like what he’d always assumed.

He instantly liked her.

“This is James. I’m Sirius.” He introduced in a friendly and slightly flirtatious manner.

The girl on the bench chuckled lightly, “Yes, I know.” She stated, looking up.

Sirius raised a brow at this. To say he was a known playboy around the school was an understatement. Of course, a pretty girl who seemed to be from his year would know who he was. He gave her a smirk and a wink.

She flushed but tried to hide it behind a huff and an eye-roll.

“Gross. Not like that.” Though she did know him in that way, too, “I know who you are because we were potions partners first year. Remember? You called me ‘potion girl’? And James is on the quidditch team, I’ve _played_ against him, so of course, I know who he is.”

Sirius wracked his brain for a potion lesson with a chill, matter-of-fact girl from first year, but all he could recall was a blurry image of a doe-eyed (h/c) ogling everything and anything as if it were some wild unbelievable wonder.

“Wait a second…” James chimed in, shaking a pointed finger in her direction as he recalled something, “I do know you. You’re (y/n) (l/n), a Beater for Hufflepuff. You’ve got a mean swinging arm.”

She smiled wide at him, “It’s been fun confirming our identities and all, but I have to go, now.”

The boys watched as she shut her book and stood from the bench. As she turned to walk down the hall in the opposite direction that the Slytherins had run in, Sirius called out to her.

“Maybe we’ll see you around.”

“You will. We have three classes together, Black.”

“We do?” he tried to recall any sort of memory of the girl at the other end of the hall, but he was drawing a tried and true blank. Though he supposed he’d seen her face around Hogwarts on occasion, he’d never given her much thought. Maybe it was because she operated in different circles, maybe it was because of the badger on her lapel.

The Playboy in him wanted to retort that he couldn’t imagine not noticing a girl like her, but the look she gave him after his rather dumbstruck question kept him quiet.

She must have thought he was an absolute dunce.

“You’re kidding, right?” she called, exasperated, “do you ever think of anything but yourself?”

“Sometimes, I think of pretty women.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Nice. Good to know I don’t fall into that category. Thanks.” She snarked as she turned from him.

he felt himself flush a bit. he hadn’t meant to offend her, he was shooting for dashingly devious to charm her, though she seemed to have turned it around on him, much like she had with every other assumption he’d made about her.

from beside him, James snickered and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I like her, Pads.”

…

In the following days, Sirius realized that she was in fact, in some of his classes. Not only that, but he sat directly behind her in one of them.  Such a lovely, quick-witted young lady and he hadn’t even known she was there. What a tragedy. _Well,_ he thought to himself, _no more._

He greeted her whenever he saw her. She’d beam and greet him back, rolling her eyes at some comments and hiding blushes at others. Soon enough, the other Marauders would greet her in the halls too, even when Sirius wasn’t around to initiate. After that, she started getting invited to hangouts and prank sessions-- though she refused to partake in those unless they were justified-- until one day they all laughed at some joke James had cracked as they studied by the lake and realized, she’d become a part of the group.

She didn’t know about Remus’s condition or their furry little secret just yet She wouldn't learn until she stumbled upon them in a rather incriminating scene sixth year. She knew something was amiss, though, but she didn’t pry, and the boys liked having her around even more because of it.

During the spring semester, Sirius learned more things about Hufflepuffs than he ever thought he could. They weren’t goody-two-shoes, they were loyal. They weren’t doormats, they were kind and accepting. And they certainly weren’t always innocent, if (y/n)’s constant complaints about her dorm mates drunkenly stumbling into the room at all hours was anything to go by.

They also weren’t harmless. They could be frightening. (y/n), on occasion, could be frightening.

James wasn’t kidding when he’d said she had a mean swing. As Sirius stood in the stands commentating on the match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw he got his first glimpse at just how competitive and deceptively muscular (y/n) was.

“And there goes (l/n)- lovely as ever, my dear- flying straight towards a bludger-that girl really wastes no time, huh?”

As he continued to interject himself, Professor McGonagall reprimanded him tiredly, and he gave her a quick

“Sorry, Minnie. Anywho, (l/n) readies her bat and whoa! What a hit! I think she got that chaser right in the stomach. Well done, (n/n).” He praised, astonished, and slightly nervous. He reminded himself, at that moment, to lighten up on the teasing.

He got a glimpse at how righteous she was the very next day when they happened to catch a first-year Muggle-born from Ravenclaw being harassed by an upper-class Slytherin.

Their group had been in the halls, talking idly until they had to part ways with each other, as Hufflepuff’s next class was with Ravenclaw when she spotted the altercation.

She’d simply shoved her books into Remus’s startled arms, removed her satchel and held it out; waiting until Peter hesitantly took it from her grasp before she rolled up her cloak sleeves and marched towards the scene.

“Hey!” she barked, “What in Helga’s name do you think you’re doing?”

“Run along, _Hufflesnuff_ , this isn’t your concern.” The boy snarled.

“Actually,” she challenged, “When you’re picking on a child half your size for no real reason, it _is_ my concern.”

He got up in her face, snarling even more as he growled out “I have to teach this Mudblood a lesson, and if you try to stand in my way, you’ll regret it.”

From the other side of the hall, James smacked Sirius on the arm, and the two began to make their way towards the girl, about to help her out when she said:

“how about _this_  Mudblood teaches _you_ a lesson instead.” She preceded to grab the boy’s lapel and kick out his shin. As the boy fell forward, his nose fell right into the headbutt the girl delivered.

The Slytherin fell back on his butt, nose splattered with red as he clutched it.

“Next time you threaten a Muggle-born, you better hope I’m not around. Remember: Badgers are known for _eating snakes_.”

The boy scurried to his feet, attempting to pick up the tattered remains of his dignity as he said, “You _will_ regret this.” In a stuffed-up voice.

The girl then turned, helping the boy to his feet with a kind smile, and if Sirius hadn’t stopped in his tracks alongside James when she’d headbutted that guy, he would have then because wow, did she have a beautiful smile.

“Mudbloods have to stick together,” she’d told the small boy with a wink.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use that word,” James said with an amused drawl as he finished approaching her.

“ _You’re_ not, but we can,” She said, gesturing between her and the Ravenclaw.

“Words only have the power we give them. If we take the word, they can’t use it to hurt us.” She explained to the boy with a wink as she ushered him off.

“(y/n),” Peter piped up as she took her satchel back from him, “You have that boy’s blood on your forehead.”

(y/n) taught Sirius that Hufflepuffs were kind and loyal, and _terrifying_.

…

In their fifth year, things started to pick up. Sirius had become rebellious to the point that he was practically unwelcome in his own home, and the fact that he now seemed to be friends with a Muggle-born Hufflepuff girl seemed to be one of the final nails in the coffin. Soon, he knew, he’d have to find somewhere else to spend his summers, though he tried not to think about it.

He was finding that increasingly difficult, now that some of the purebloods at the school were becoming more and more vocal about their distaste for Muggle-borns.

Where there were whispers of Voldemort and Death Eaters, there were also loud chants and rallies, preaching acceptance and equality. Some of these rallies were led by Lilly Evans, so of course, James was in the front of the crowd, cheering along, but after the first rally James attended, he came rushing back to the Gryffindor common room suggesting the others join too.

“What,” Sirius had joked, “And watch you schmooze Evans for an hour? No thanks. I support the Muggle-borns, but I don’t support your unhealthy infatuation.”

James feigned offense at the comment, but at this point, they were such a common jab that they just rolled off his back, “No, I meant because (y/n) was up there leading the rally, too. She’s practically a marauder, we should be supporting her.”

The next rally came, and lo and behold, the boys stood in the crowd of the courtyard watching Evans and (l/n) casting amplifying charms on their voices as they stood on the edge of the fountain leading chants and preaching acceptance of their kind.

When James had introduced the girls at the end of their fourth-year spring term, it had been in an attempt to get (y/n) to talk him up to Lilly. To his constant disappointment, however, he hardly ever came up in their conversations. He might have eavesdropped on a few of their chats to learn that instead, they spoke of studies, what they wanted to do after graduation, and soon, about their shared blood status once the news of the dark lord and his manifesto began to make headlines. It was then that they had the idea to hold these rallies and speak out.

While it gave their fellow Muggle-borns hope in an increasingly dark time, it also made them targets, and the boys found themselves constantly busy thwarting gang ups and plotting revenge pranks in the name of protecting their friend on her revolutionist vendetta.

Then came the fateful quidditch game against Slytherin, when they all seemed to target her.

She was doing well, holding her own. But the boys, alongside every Muggle-born in the audience and all of Hufflepuff, were on edge as they watched her fight off all her attackers. They weren’t even scoring points or guarding their goal very well. All their energy was focused on the fifth-year beater. Flying past her quickly so that the blast knocks her off balance, bumping her as they came up behind to try and knock her off her broom, and every single bludger seemed to be heading in her direction.

Her high ponytail was swishing in every direction, flyaways littering her face as she exerted herself, knocking every single bludger they sent her right back with twice the force behind it.

“And another bludger that’s heading straight for (l/n), she evades, using the movement of her turn to send that bugger right on back to Bulstrode! Watch Out (n/n), that Rosier ponce is coming up right behind you- oh! She just hit him in the face with her ponytail, what a fantastic play, Darling!”

McGonagall wasn’t even reprimanding him for his color commentary anymore, she was right there with him, and he even heard her let out an excited cheer as she watched the beater knock the Slytherin chaser off balance with her hair.

Though her fight was valiant, in the end, two of the chasers came up on either side of her, locking her in as a bludger came right for her, catching her in the shoulder, and knocking her straight off her broom.

The whole stadium screamed as she hurtled towards the earth, and Sirius felt himself boom her name into the mic, making it the only thing anyone could hear.

Fortunately enough, one of her fellow team members caught her, supporting her back as he held her side-saddle on the broom.

She was tired, breathing heavily as she kept her eyes shut and leaned into her team captain, the chaser that caught her.

The Hufflepuffs forfeited the match, and the four Gryffindor boys rushed from their places in the stand to meet the team at the end of the pitch. Sirius tried to get the chaser carrying her to hand her off to them, but the boy seemed reluctant, looking down at the girl passed out in his arms with longing. Sirius felt a pang of something, jealousy perhaps, but McGonagall rushed over as well ordering the Capitan to hand her off and debrief the rest of the team before he could truly ponder why exactly he’d felt like that.

Gently, the Hufflepuff Capitan handed the girl off to Remus and the boys rushed towards the hospital wing.

Distantly, they could hear a riot breaking out in the stands behind them, but they were way too preoccupied with their incapacitated friend to care.

…

A Slytherin in the stands scoffed. “Figures those Hufflepuffs would forfeit. Too scared they’re going to get hurt too, I suppose.” A few of his friends snickered along before a second-year stood up and turned around to face them.

 “They forfeit because we targeted one of their own, and they care about her. We targeted her because she cares about Muggle-borns. Slytherins don’t care about _either_.”

The boy was usually quiet and soft-spoken, but everyone still knew he was Muggle-born. The boys who’d made the comment stood up, towering over the boy, but a few rows to the left, a seventh-year stood up, towering over _them_.

“Mudbloods stick together. That’s what (l/n) believes.” The seventh-year stated before he reared back and punched one of his fellow Slytherin in the face. The few other Muggle-borns in the Slytherin stands reared up too, cheering and defending themselves from their fellow classmates, yelling things like:

“For (l/n)!” and “Mudbloods stick together!”

If she’d been there, and conscious to witness it, it might have brought her to tears with pride.

…

It took an hour, but she finally woke up, bleary-eyed and confused, trying to move her right arm and hissing at the pain.

She looked around at the four boys at her bedside.

“What in Helga’s name happened?” she groaned.

“Those Slytherin bastards knocked you off your broom. How are you feeling?” Remus asked, looking her over.

Besides the sling on her dislocated shoulder, she also had a cut on her cheek and a few bruises on her arms.

“Honestly?” she said, gripping her right shoulder and doing her best to rotate the kinks out of it, “I’m feeling pissed. This is going to keep me out for the rest of the season! How am I supposed to make Capitan next year, now?”

James shook his head, exasperated, “ _That’s_ what you’re worried about? You know why they targeted you, right? Aren’t you scared for your safety?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Evans and I will be just fine, Potter. We knew what we were getting into. If they’re trying to silence us, we should just scream louder. This won’t stop me.”

Sirius stared at her, dumbfounded by her resolve and her nonchalance about having just been targeted by an entire quidditch team. “Have I ever told you that you terrify me, (n/n)?” he asked breathlessly.

…

In sixth year, Sirius had finally decided that he loved her, but like a sister. She was his best friend, save for James, and he told her everything. Even which girl he currently had his eyes on.

In sixth year, (y/n) finally decided that she loved Sirius, but _not_ like a brother. It hurt, to see him chase after other women, and it hurt that he was so eager to talk with her about it, but she endured. To her, it didn’t matter whether he felt the same, she knew he cared about her. She was special to him, in whatever way it was, and she knew no matter who he was currently chasing, they were short term. She wasn’t. She’d stay by his side in any way she could, she simply wanted to be with him.

Which is why when he spent potions class asking her to set him up with her Hufflepuff friend as he passed her ingredients, she didn’t get mad, or upset, she simply rolled her eyes and gave him an amused smirk.

“No, Padfoot.” She shut down as she took the bowl of ground up snake fang from his hands. Their fingers brushed, and her heart did a flip. Sirius barely registered it.

“Come on, (n/n), just introduce me, I’ll do the rest. Why are you doing this to me?” he whined, “Look at her, she’s freaking gorgeous, and just _begging_ for a snog.”

“Because,” she sassed back, whipping him with her ponytail as she turned to look at him.

He sputtered, spitting the strands of her hair out of his mouth as she continued,

“She’s my housemate and my friend, and I don’t want to watch as you use her and toss her aside like she’s a pudding cup.”

He put his hand to his chest in mock offense, “I’ll have you know; the using is mutual.”

“Yes, but is the tossing aside?”

He remained quiet at that, but he knew she had a point. It was quiet as they continued to work until Sirius eyed her up with a smirk as she finished the potion, raising her hand for Slughorn to come check their work, or more accurately, _her_ work.

“You know what I think? I think you’re just trying to keep me all to yourself.” He teased, watching as a flush subtly rose to her cheeks.

She smirked back. “Yes, Sirius, I’ve been desperately in love with you since first-term, how did you know?” her tone was sarcastic, but the words were all true. Her best talent was deception through truth.

…

At the start of seventh year, they all started working towards career goals, with James and Sirius working towards becoming Aurors.

(y/n), however, was conflicted. “I know I want to do something fun, but I just can’t decide. Do I want to work towards magical habitat preservation? I could be a medic; St. Mungo’s is already sending me internship applications. Herbology would be fun, too…" she mused as she looked over a catalogue McGonagall had lent her. Lilly was right beside her, flipping through jobs.

“Ooh, maybe I’ll do something like a tea shop, serving to muggles and wizards alike! A secret wizard menu with magic drinks!” (y/n) mused dreamily.

James scoffed, “none of those things sound ‘fun’ at all.”

She glared halfheartedly at him. “Maybe not to you, Pureblood, but up until I was eleven, I thought I was just some mundane person, then suddenly, boom! I had magic like something out of a fantasy novel! Everything that has to do with magic sounds fun to me. Why do you think I like school so much?”

From beside her Lilly nodded in confirmation, though she barely looked up from the catalogue, too afraid to catch James’s eye and reveal that she might-have-sort-have developed feelings for him in return.

Sirius had never thought about that before, but now it made sense. Why she and Evans and some of the other Muggle-borns were constantly at the top of the class.

It just made her passion for learning, and the amazed sparkle in her eye all the more endearing to him.

She was becoming cuter by the day, and the more time he spent with her, the more time he had to look at her. _Really_ look at her. if he spent any more time around the woman, he might start to develop a crush.

Though there was hardly enough time left in the semester for that to happen.

…

The last time the group was all together was the day Harry was born. Right before the Potters went into hiding.

They’d popped the cork on the champagne rather early, and thanks to (y/n)’s reluctance to smoke cigars, it left her with more time to fill up on booze. By the time Harry did arrive in the world, she was right and truly sloshed.

(y/n) held the baby like he was the most precious thing in the world, beginning to tear up as she swayed with the babe, and he grabbed onto her pointer finger with his whole hand.

Peter, who was also rather hammered exclaimed loudly and pointed out the tear tracks on the woman’s face.

“(y/n), Honey, why are you crying?” Lilly questioned with concern lacing her strained voice as she sat up in bed.

“He’s just got… such tiny fuckin’ fingers.” The drunk woman explained as she sobbed.

James took that as his queue to ease the infant from her grasp, and she cried out in outrage.

“Relax, (n/n),” James calmed, “you’ll hold him again sometime. It’d be kind of hard not to, seeing as you’re his godmother.”

She beamed at him, finally allowing him to take the child away as she moved to sit down. The alcohol was really getting to her, and she was starting to feel rather dizzy.

Sirius, however, had a problem with this; “Hey! I thought you said _I_ was the godparent! Prongs, you _promised_.”

“You’re not the sole godparent; you’re the godfather, and she’s the godmother.”

The man scoffed, “I am _so_ not sharing the spotlight. Joint custody is a no-go.”

“We could always just get married.” The drunk woman mused.

The room was deadly silent, some of them were quiet from the awkwardness of a drunk woman not knowing what she was saying, and others from the awkwardness of knowing full well that the woman meant what she said.

“Right,” Remus said, breaking the silence, “on that note, I think it’s time someone takes (y/n) home.”

Sirius volunteered, grasping the woman’s hand in his and gently leading her out the door and into the night. All the while, the woman rambled.

“Marry me, Sirius. Our babies would have your looks, and my… Everything else. They’d be like… pedigree babies. Super babies!”

“They’d surely be the envy of all parents everywhere. All the other babies could never measure up. There’d be mass baby seppuku. Best we don’t try, my dear. For the sake of humanity.”

“That makes sense, I guess… so we’ll adopt a kid. A sweet kid… we-we’ll adopt Harry! No, no. he’s got parents… maybe a dog, then.

In the morning, she regretted saying that; moaning loudly to herself, both from the stupidity of what she'd said and from the massive hangover. In the future, though, she'd look back on that moment with a meloncholly fondness, and not much else. In the grand scheme of things, she had no regrets at all.


	2. Now

The second (y/n) found out that Sirius was being sent to Azkaban without trial for his best friend’s murder she was on the Ministry’s ass like flies on a horse’s.

She was there every minute of every hour of every day, proclaiming his innocence and demanding a fair trial. For her efforts, she was blacklisted, banned from the ministry building, and her custody of Harry was revoked, as her 'alliance' with Sirius was labeled a ‘danger’ to the boy.

After that, she was silent about Sirius. She loved him. She would love him to the day she died, and she would believe him innocent of any wrongdoing down to the most inconsequential parking ticket, but for the sake of Harry, and James, and Lilly, she had to let it go. It’s what he would have wanted her to do.

From that day forward, she wrote a strongly worded letter every day and sent it directly to the house of Millicent Bagnold, Minister of Magic, until Cornelius Fudge took over, and she began to send letters to his home instead. She pleaded with both of them to see reason and return her godson, and after a while, she fluctuated between three to five sentence memos and fifteen-minute-long howlers filled with frustrated rants and colorful speech.

Finally, _finally_ , after twelve long years of letter writing so intense there were indents of ‘Dearest Minister’ etched into the wood of her writing desk, she got her wish. 

You see, Fudge did not have the tightest grip on the situation playing out in the wizarding world around him, though he liked the community to believe that he did. So when word got out that notorious killer, Sirius Black, had escaped from the _Inescapable Mega Jail of Wizardom™_ , he went a little overboard trying to get him back, sending dementors to Hogwarts, and Aurors to (y/n)’s home.

They hadn’t knocked, they’d simply barged into her cottage, searching for evidence of fugitive harboring. They checked every room, every drawer, every nook, and cranny, pulling books off shelves and tromping through her greenhouse.

“Do you want to cavity search my owl, too?” she snarled as one of the Aurors began removing pictures from their frames to look in between the layers. When one of them picked up a picture of her and the others from sixth-year, she hurried over, snatching it from the man’s hands.

“Careful with this one, if you please.”

The man stared at her expectantly and she scoffed, muttering something about the Wizard Gestapo before she gingerly removed the picture from the frame, handing it back as she clutched the photo to her chest.

As they continued to search, she stared down at the picture in her hands, ignoring everything around her as she caressed the image. half of the people in it were dead, now.

From left to right, Peter, Remus, James, Sirius, (y/n) and Lilly were sitting, laughing at something stupid Sirius had just said as they sat under a tree near the Black Lake. It had been a simpler time. Happier, too. And she missed those days dearly. Everything was so much darker, even more than they had been back when they were fighting in a war. At least then, they had each other. Now, they had no one. Sirius was on the run, Remus was a drifter, and (y/n) was shunned as a traitor by association.

She made her living by selling herbal potion ingredients to the people in the town nearby, and by publishing muggle novels under a pen name, as with her name on a blacklist, she could make a living nowhere else.

It was lonely, but she got used to it. Every once in a while Remus would visit. Each time, she would try and coerce him into staying with her, and each time he would refuse. Though he was soft-spoken, he could be almost dumbfoundingly stubborn. He’d always state that he didn’t wish to be a burden on her.

“You’re not a burden, Remus. You’re my friend.” She’d assure.

She was pressing less fervently now that she’d heard he got a job as a Hogwarts professor, though she couldn’t help but fret over where he’d spend the summers.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard a crash from the kitchen. Rushing in, she found one of the Aurors standing near the counters. On the floor was two little glass animals, shattered past recognition.

Seeing the trinkets in such a state shattered _her_. They had been a gift from Lilly. glass figures of the girl’s Patronuses.

The Auror seemed completely unapologetic when he said, “oops.”

(y/n) grit her teeth, looking around at the men and women destroying her home right in front of her, looking for things that just weren’t there. They could have put her under Veritaserum, they could have been gentler with her belongings, but they hadn’t. This was a display of power.  A fear tactic. Well, she was never one to bend to intimidation.

“Get. Out.” she spat, “Out of my house. All of you. If there was anything to find, Godric knows you would have found it already. You people have taken everything from me and destroyed my home.  Just… Just go.”

She wanted to cry. She wanted to break down so very bad, but she refused to while Fudge’s Militia was present.

So instead she stood tall and glared as the Aurors filed out of her home. As a part of her blacklisting, she wasn’t even allowed to keep her wand, so it wasn’t like she could use magic to clean up their mess, instead, she had to painstakingly sort through her books, organizing them and placing them back on the shelves, climbing the ladder precariously to get to the very top shelves on her floor to ceiling wall of shelving.

She was halfway done with a quarter of the work ahead of her-- and that wasn’t even counting the greenhouse-- when another knock came on her door. She growled. She was sweaty from doing so much labor in the late spring heat, and she looked in no way presentable, but it was probably another Auror coming to harass her again anyway, so she just marched to the door, and swung it open.

 “…What.” She barked as she took in her visitor.

He didn’t even bother with a greeting, simply stepping into her home.

Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody had limped into her living room, looking around at the torn-apart picture frames and the stacks of books being prepared for shelving.

“They really did a number, huh?” he grumbled lowly.

She shook her head with a sigh, “I haven’t seen you in a decade, Moody, what are you doing here all of a sudden?”

He turned, fishing a wand and a folder of documents from his coat before handing them to her. she looked at them before turning her gaze back up at him. She recognized the wand; Alder wood, Unicorn Hair Core, Unyielding, Thirteen Inches. It was hers, but the paperwork was what had her attention.

“What’s this?” she asked suspiciously.

“A gift. From Fudge. For the mess he made this morning.”

She took the wand hesitantly, waving it in a small circle; still keeping her eyes on Moody as the house began to put itself back together.

“Is this an apology, or a bribe to keep my mouth shut?” she griped

“What do you think?” Moody answered gruffly as he passed her the paperwork.

She looked down, skimming the pages, and flipping through the conditions of whatever contract it was, but her brows furrowed. This wasn’t some conditional contract for keeping her wand, it was custody papers. Her head whipped back up to Moody. “Is this for real?” she asked, breathlessly. She just couldn’t comprehend this. “But, he’s a teenager now, he’s most likely capable of being on his own, anyway. Why now?”

But she did know. Fudge was fumbling to grasp so many flyaway situations, that keeping her from going to the press and stopping his abuse of power and everything else from coming to light was worth handing over Harry. She read through the document again, unable to keep the big, bright grin from her features.

Moody began to make his leave, placing a large hand on her petite shoulder and squeezing it with knowing support before limping his way from the house.

As she scanned the document, she took note that she had to get the Dursleys to sign him off to her, and though she was reluctant to see Lilly’s sister once again, for Harry, she would.

For Harry, and for James, and for Lilly, and Peter, Remus…and for Sirius, too.

She hurried through the cottage, an amalgamation of circular, hut-like rooms all intersecting into one Venn Diagram-like open floor home. She hurried from the living room/reading nook, through the kitchen into the master bedroom to grab a shower and get dressed to go out.

On her way, she found the two glass animals on the floor, perfectly put back together. She picked them up, clutching hers to her chest, and holding up the doe to her face. “We did it, Lilly.” She whispered happily, placing the figures lovingly back on the countertop as she began to prepare herself to visit the Dursleys.

…

She shuffled nervously on the porch, looking as presentable and Muggle-like as she could in a lovely floral sundress and strapped sandals as she knocked on the door at 4 Privet Drive.

Petunia’s husband answered the door. She never bothered remembering his name, as she and Lilly hadn’t been invited to their wedding, and she’d only ever spoken with Petunia during the few times she visited Lilly in the summers.

Still, she smiled widely and asked to speak to his wife. Curiously, the man called to her and when she spotted (y/n) in the doorway, she hurried out onto the porch and shut the door; not wanting her husband to figure out that there was yet another wizard at his doorstep.

“(y/n).” She greeted curtly, “What are you doing here?”

The woman smiled again, “I promise I won’t be long, I’m simply here to ask a favor.”

Petunia scrunched her eyes, sighing.

“Before you say no,” (y/n) added hastily, “It’s for Lilly, too. It’s honoring one of her final requests.”

The other woman’s brow creased some more, but when she opened her eyes she huffed and nodded once, “What is it?”

Her heart leapt. It had been a longshot, but deep down, (y/n) knew that Petunia had loved her sister.

“It’s custody papers. For Harry. I need you and your husband to sign them and hand him off to me.” She offered up the folder sheepishly, not really sure what to expect for a reaction.

The woman went white, breathlessly asking (y/n) to wait on the doorstep as she stepped back inside with the papers, and she could hear the rumbling of conversation before the door swung back open and Petunia’s portly husband lively shoved the now signed papers back at her with a broad smile, grabbing (y/n)’s hand and shaking it vigorously.

“You, my dear, are the finest Witch I’ve ever, _ever_ met.”

He laughed, before he said, “never return here.”

With that, the door was slammed back in her face and she was left stunned and rather clueless as to what had just happened, but the papers were signed, and that was what she’d set out to do. In a rather robotic manner, she turned on her heel and marched back down the steps.

…

By the end of the school year, It had become public knowledge that Sirius had been at Hogwarts, but had managed to escape again, and was still on the run. She couldn’t help but smirk at the headlines of ‘crazed killer still on the lose’ she could spy parents and guardians reading at platform 9 ¾.

She was incredibly nervous. Dumbledore had sent her an Owl a week prior informing her that Harry had been made aware of the shift in guardianship, and was hesitant, but excited. He had also informed her that she was welcome to pick him up at the school, but (y/n) had written back, stating she wanted him to have the chance to ride back from Hogwarts with his friends, but now, she wished she hadn’t said that. She hadn’t seen him since he was an infant, and yes, his face was probably plastered all over the prophet, but she hadn’t had access to the papers until very recently. She didn’t even know what to look for as she scanned the crowd of kids hopping off the train until she saw him and instantly knew who he was.

She had to hang back a bit, even as she watched him look for her. She didn’t want to meet them while she was on the verge of breaking down, that would be a weird first impression. He just looked so much like James it was ridiculous.

She took a deep breath before she heard a familiar voice piercing the hum of the busy station. That was Molly, no doubt about it. “Oh Harry, Dear, you’re looking for (y/n)? Well, don’t fret. We’ll stay until we find her—oh, there she is, right over there, come along Darling.”

That brought her out of her stupor as Harry and a pack of read-headed wizards made their way in her direction. Before she could even open her mouth, Molly was pulling her into a tight, consuming, hug.

“Oh, (y/n), Dear, I haven’t seen you in so long, how have you been?”

She laughed, “Oh, you know, blacklisted, stripped of guardianship, love of my life sentenced to life in prison. The usual.”

The other woman tutted, pulling back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before quickly turning, and ushering Harry forward. “Well, I do hope to see you come to that quidditch game at the end of the summer, Harry. Bye, (y/n), Dear.” She said quickly, kissing the boy’s cheek before ushering her children off and leaving the two practical strangers alone.

Things were suffocating after the family had left, and laughing awkwardly, (y/n) gestured for Harry to follow as they walked towards the rest of King’s Cross, and out into the parking lot where her tiny little two-seater car was parked. She opened the small trunk that was just a little space behind the seats where she fit his trunk and his owl and the few other belongings he had before she shut the door and moved to get in the car.

“Is this a flying car?” Harry asked curiously as he opened the passenger door. It was the first thing she heard him say, and she whipped around when she heard it.

He wasn’t as confident and self-assured when he spoke, but he even _sounded_ like James.

“Have much experience with those?” she asked with amusement.

He shook his head, “Just one, and it didn’t end well…”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he simply stopped talking again, choosing instead to hop into the car as he blushed in embarrassment.

“Well, this one’s just a regular car. No flying involved.” She assured as she got in beside him and started the engine.

As they were driving, an old Muggle song came on the radio and (y/n) sighed, turning it up.

Harry scrunched his brows together in slight recognition. “I can't place it, but I know this song.”

(y/n) broke her gaze from the road to look at him glaring over at the radio as if it might tell him why he remembers a song he doesn’t know.

“It was one of your mother’s favorites. She might have sung it to you sometimes before…” She trailed off. She didn’t need to finish that sentence. “or maybe you’ve heard it somewhere else.”

“It’s weird,” He stated, “I’ve never met you before, and you know more about my parents than I do.”

“You’ve met me.” She assured, “You just don’t remember me. You’d only just been born at the time.”

There was silence again, and (y/n) absolutely hated it. “…Did he mention me at all? Sirius, I mean… O-or Remus… No, no. I want to know if Sirius mentioned me.” She fretted nervously like a schoolgirl asking her friend to talk to her crush. She felt her whole face heat up.

“They… both mentioned you. Sirius was surprised that I didn’t know you, and was afraid something happened to you, and Remus told him you were fine. That’s about it, though.” He informed, shaking his head.

She laughed shakily. “Yeah, of course, it was. I suppose more important things were going on.”

She didn’t know if she was happy he’d been worried for her or disappointed that he hadn’t said anything more. She was also conflicted over him not coming to see her since he’s been free. He might have been discovered when those Aurors came, so it was good that he didn’t, but… why hadn’t he? Was he afraid she’d turn him in? Was she not important enough to check up on? Why hadn’t he come?

She wanted to ask this to Harry, and she hesitantly looked over at him a few times as she prepared to ask, but she knew he probably wouldn’t have an answer for her.

…

The car ride had been quiet, mostly, but once they’d gotten past the village near her home, where Harry had begun to perk up, trying to discern which one he’d be staying in, he looked around with confusion once she turned onto a dirt path that led up to a grassy hill about a quarter mile outside the village.

“Are you planning on driving me out to the wilderness to kill me?” he joked lightly.

She scoffed, “I see you inherited your father’s sense of humor.”

He eyed her curiously at her comment. “That’s a new one.”

“What do you mean?” she questioned, leaning her head towards him as she kept her eyes on the road.

“Everyone tells me I look like my father, I’ve just… never been told that I act like him, too. Not in a positive way, anyway.”

She smiled fondly. “You don’t, actually. It’s just little things here and there. The jokes, the pitch of your voice, the glasses…”

She trailed off as they pulled up to the cottage. As they got out of the car he hesitated, turning towards her as he questioned, “What was he like?”

“James? Oh, he was a troublemaker; always scheming. He was a procrastinator, too. Put off every assignment until the last minute, but always got good marks. That made me so mad all the time.” She chuckled. “And he was pompous, oh! Every word out of his mouth sounded like he thought he just said the smartest thing in the world.”

She turned to look over at him to see him frowning. Maybe her description, though affectionate, sounded a bit harsh. She continued on with more sincerity.

“He was also genuine. And loyal, and _so_ charismatic. When he talked to you, he could make you feel like you were the most important person in the world. And he loved your mother very, very much. I’d give anything to have someone love me the way James loved Lilly.”

She found herself daydreaming. Of what it might have been like if Sirius had felt that strongly for _her._

Though she knew that was next to impossible. As much as they adored each other, Sirius had never been the type to settle down and commit to someone.  Even if he was, he’d never feel something for her past brotherly affection to even consider her as an option.

Even if he did, they’d missed their chance. There was too much in the way, now. Distance, and laws, and time… they were just never meant to be.

She felt almost overwhelmed with sadness at that moment. All of her friends had simply vanished into thin air one day out of the blue, and there hadn’t been a damn thing to do about it.

Seeing her getting choked up, Harry found himself floundering for something to fix it. Out of panic, he hugged her. “Thanks.” He said awkwardly, and (y/n) felt a pull of affection for the boy, akin to the affection she’d felt that night in her drunken stupor when his little infant hand had wrapped around her pointer finger and he’d gurgled up at her like she was the only person his little eyes wanted to see.

She stroked at his hair before pulling away and sniffing.

“We should just… head inside, yeah?”

The pair pulled apart, removing his belongings from the trunk and moving them into the house.

The boy immediately began looking around with wonder. The unique architecture of the home really was nice to look at. It felt spacious, and cozy all at once. She’d taken heavy inspiration from the Hufflepuff common room.

She led him into the spare bedroom, sheepishly apologizing for the small size, but the boy shook his head vigorously. “No, no, this is… brilliant!” he assured, setting his trunk on the bed. He moved to place Hedwig and her cage on the dresser, but (y/n) stopped him.

“Hey, you don’t need to keep her cramped in there, poor thing. Come with me.”

She then let him follow her out into the living room, and through a side door. It was a sort of open gazebo-like room, a ceiling held up by pillars, but with open walls. Her own owl was currently napping, sitting up in the rafters of the room.

Harry excitedly allowed his owl to leave her cage and the bird instantly flew out, joining the other bird near its perch.

“This place is amazing,” Harry told her with wonder to his eyes that she’d seen in Lilly’s and had probably often been in her own during their time at Hogwarts. She leaned against the wall nonchalantly as she looked out at the view of rolling hills with pride.

“It is, isn’t it? You know Lilly and I designed it. It was originally going to be our shared summer home. The six of us. We’d pooled our money together when we were 20 and bought this place and the surrounding area as a one-room cottage and a bunch of grass. We built it out together, were going to make enough bedrooms for all of us, but your parents went into hiding before we even got passed the kitchen. We’d just finished the second bedroom when Sirius was sent to Azkaban,” She mused sadly.

“So, here we are,” She said, gesturing around, “It’s still ours, I’ve just been the only one occupying it for a while. Maybe someday there’ll be the need to tack on two more bedrooms.”

“You know, Peter, he was…” Harry started hesitantly.

“I know.” She cut off. “Remus told me in the last letter he sent.”

 

(y/n) had been so thoroughly pissed when she’d read that line. She’d instantly turned to the picture of them by the lake, violently pulling the picture from its frame as she’d teared Peter out of it and chucked him into the fireplace.

It took her a second to calm, but when she’d come to her senses, she immediately fished him back out, trying to blow out the part that had caught flame. She’d stared at him; or at least, at the younger, innocent Peter she’d known in her youth. With the pudgy cheeks, and the starry eyes… what she’d always assumed was a meek and passive disposition had turned out to be slimy cowardice in disguise.

She’d snarled, and let him burn.

 

(y/n) and Harry were quiet as everything they didn’t say about Peter Pettigrew was left out in the air between them.

“I suppose, You’re probably hungry. Do you want to head into the village and go out to eat? Oh, wait, you’ve been traveling all day, haven’t you? you probably just want to decompress, get used to things here, huh?” (y/n) fretted, “Oh, I don’t know what I can make at the moment, do I need groceries?”

She pondered several things at once as she fretted over meals, and ingredients, and how hungry the boy might actually be.

Neither of them noticed the big black dog watching them from the tall grass a few yards away from the house the woman was currently ushering Harry back into, _and perhaps,_ Sirius thought, _that was for the best_. He shouldn’t have left Grimmauld Place. If he was discovered here somehow, He’d be putting (y/n) and Harry in danger. But he had to check up on her, to make sure she was alright, and that she and Harry found each other. He hadn’t expected to see her so bright and _thriving_ , but it thrilled him.

She was still as lovely as she’d ever been. Fit as she’d ever been. It’d been so long since he’d last seen her, and it had become increasingly harder to ignore how much he _longed_ for her during his years in prison. It seemed every other memory the dementors sucked from him was one of her.

(y/n) laughing, or sassing him, or asking him to pass a potions ingredient, or just sitting there, smiling, and saying his name. She was doing well. That was good.

She was doing just fine without him.

It shouldn’t have stung so much, but it did. Did she ever fall in love? Get married? Was she with someone now? He wanted to know desperately, but only if the answer was in the negative. He tried getting a peek into the house, to try and suss out if there were signs of another person living there with them, but he couldn’t get close enough to see without being too close. Even in dog form, he had to be careful about who saw him.

He let out a human-like sigh and turned back into the grass. Maybe, if he annoyed Remus enough, he’d get his answers.


	3. Family Ties

(y/n) had dreamed a very odd dream. She was a princess, wandering the British countryside when a big black dog appeared out of the tall grass. The Dog told her he was a prince, and that a curse was placed on him many years ago. If she kissed him, however, he’d turn back into a man. She did, and he’d transformed back into Sirius. The wild-haired, mustachioed, screaming man she’d seen on the front page of the Daily Prophet every day for the last three days. He’d been crazed and screaming in her dream, too, which is what got her to jolt awake.

With bleary eyes, she looked around her bedroom as light poured in through the big round windows. She pushed her hands into her eyes as she took in a deep breath, still trying to suss out reality. When she had, she got out of bed and began her daily routine. Put on slippers, water the houseplants, check on the greenhouse, get the mail, start breakfa- she paused, spray bottle in hand as she went out to check on the plants in the rest of the house.

There was a boy in her home. One that looked exactly like James. Harry. Her godson. She’d gotten her godson back yesterday.

She stood in the doorway as she watched him skim the bookshelves in his pajamas. He curiously picked up one of the books she’d published herself in the muggle world, the pen name she’d used being ‘Sirius Spellman’, so of course, it would catch his eye.

This particular one was a children’s book. The first one she ever published, about a little (h/c) witch looking for her family with a big, black dog at her side. The illustrations were very cute, with the Witch wearing an overly tall pointed hat, and a robe that was too long in the arms and trailed behind her; approximately three times too big.

She remembered meeting with the illustrator about re-drawing some of the panels when she’d first seen them. The dog had originally looked nothing like the one that lived in her head, and in her heart. The witch hadn’t looked like her at the time, either, but that hadn’t mattered to her. It was only after the illustrator had a meeting with her and took notes on what she wanted the dog to look like that the witch changed, too. To have (h/c) hair, and her nose shape. Perhaps he was inspired by her appearance, or perhaps he could tell that this was more sentimental than just a difference in artistic vision.

Whatever the reason, she was grateful. Both then, and now, as she watched Harry start to smile as he flipped through the pages.

She should really start on breakfast before she did anything else. He’d practically scarfed down every bite as soon as it was put on his plate last night, claiming that usually, at home, if he wasn’t quick enough, his cousin Dudley would take his food and that the same thing had started happening at Hogwarts with Ron.

“It’s become a bad habit.” He admitted, with a full mouth.

“Well, quit it. It’s not good for your stomach.” She reprimanded as she graciously spooned more mashed potatoes onto his plate.

He was probably still hungry, now. She could make him something, but what would he even like? She hadn’t had company in so long, and it’d been longer since she’d lived with someone. She didn’t know how to act or conduct herself anymore.

She knew how to act when Remus visited, but that practically didn’t count, since his visits were so far and few in between; besides, he was Remus. She knew how to be around Remus, and she knew what he liked; porridge with brown sugar in the mornings, roast beef sandwich around noon, shepherd’s pie at dinner, and a scoop of chocolate ice cream at dessert.

She didn’t know what Harry liked, and she hadn’t been around people enough in the past to know if it was an appropriate thing to ask. Did people do that? ‘Hey, I’m making breakfast, what would you eat?’ Probably, but she was too frazzled and sleepy to know for sure.

Instead, she caught his attention with a slight, “Hey,” and asked that he get dressed to go out.

…

The village had a single tavern, run by a young lady who’d inherited the place from her grandfather. (y/n) went there whenever she could, and the woman would always comp her meals, despite (y/n)’s protest.

The small Muggle village didn’t know much about the quiet woman who lived up on the hill, but they knew two things to be true; She was kind, and the herbs she grew could heal the sick and dying. Since moving here, she’d sold medicinal teas, ointments, and medicines that worked, as if by magic. She never allowed someone to pay more than they could afford, and she always stressed that they were an addition, and not a substitution for whatever medications they were already prescribed, though everyone knew that her products helped more than any prescription ever could.

They didn’t know why she insisted on downplaying the power of her plants, but they knew that she lived alone for a reason, and chose to respect her privacy if she kept providing them her ‘magic cures’

If only they knew…

The tavern owner’s grandfather had been very ill throughout most of his life, and his granddaughter feared that they’d have to sell the tavern in order to afford the proper medicines that just kept him from being in pain as he died. Then (y/n) had blown into town, taking residence at the small hut that had begun to be renovated into a curious looking cottage.

The town at the time had been wary of her, as she was a stranger in a very tight-knit community, but when she heard of the tavern owner’s plight when she was in the market one day, she visited. Offering to sell them an alternative medicine at a much cheaper price than what they would have paid for other medications that would have done half as much good. How could they have refused?

Within a week of drinking (y/n)’s tea leaves at dinner every night, the elderly man not only felt less in pain, but he felt less sick. He was getting out of bed, laughing, dancing with his granddaughter, and serving customers at the bar once more. He passed five years later, peacefully in his sleep instead of being miserable and in pain, and his granddaughter had been grateful for the extra time she’d gotten to spend with him.

Soon after, more people came to (y/n), seeking assistance. Now it was just known around the village; if you’re sick or injured, you first go to the doctor in the city, then, you go to (y/n).

She was greeted warmly that morning as she entered the tavern. The owner, Elissa, had hurried from her place cleaning glasses to set up the booth in the corner.

 “I kept it free all morning,” she informed, “I had a feeling you might be in today.”

The woman hadn’t even noticed Harry behind her, and only set up one spot. When the boy slid into the booth opposite (y/n), Elissa did a double take.

“Well, who’s this then?”

“This is my godson. He goes to a private school during the year, but he’ll be staying with me during his summer and winter breaks from now on.” She informed, “Harry, this is Elissa.”

“Good to meet you.” the boy greeted sheepishly.

The woman had smiled back, taking his drink order before going to grab him a menu as well as a mug of Coffee for (y/n). She’d come back, setting the mug down alongside a small cup of milk, and a bit of brown sugar that (y/n) began pouring into her drink.

“You aren’t going to order food?” Harry asked incredulously as he watched her ignore the menu he just finished reading.

“She already knows what I’m getting.” (y/n) shrugged, “what about you?”

“The erm-oatmeal, I guess.”

(y/n) shook her head, “You don’t want that, it’s bland, even for oatmeal. Here,” she said, opening the menu again as she began to point out what she felt would be good things to get.

When their food finally did arrive, it came with a message.

“Oh, (y/n), I meant to tell you; Mrs. Baker was in yesterday looking for you. She needs more of those… what did you say they were? Mandrake leaves?”

(y/n) looked confused, “What? But the last supply I gave her should have lasted her a month, at least.”

“I think she’s started taking them in the morning, too, instead of her pills. The pharmacist was in the other day, too, claiming she canceled her prescription.”

(y/n) sighed heavily as she began to pepper her omelette, “I _told_ her _not_ to do that. Honestly, she shouldn’t rely so heavily on the leaves, it could be dangerous. She was prescribed those pills for a _reason_.”

Elissa only smiled knowingly as she refilled the pair’s coffee mugs and walked away.

Harry looked around at the quiet tavern as he mutedly pointed out; “This is a muggle town.”

She nodded, and he continued, “And… you live here. I’ve never met a wizard that was so comfortable living around muggles. Isn’t it hard hiding your magic?” he asked

She pondered how best to answer the question, “Not really. The ‘magic’ I do show them are all practical applications with plausible explanations, like the herbalism, or the fae lights in the house, or the moondial and the crystals, they all just assume I’m some spiritualist loner, which I suppose I am. I didn’t have my wand with me until very recently, so it wasn’t like there was much magic practicing to hide per se… besides all that, I grew up around muggles. They’re familiar.”

Harry stared at her, stunned by her nonchalance.

“Honestly,” she giggled, “I have a harder time trying to explain muggle things to wizards, not vice versa. When I first showed up to Transfiguration class using a pen, James and Sirius had their eyes bugging out of their heads. They couldn’t comprehend how it just… clicked, and then you could write with it. In our fifth year, I had a muggle product black market going on. My parents would send me care packages, and I’d keep some and sell the rest. I’d sell pens and snacks; my top sellers were the mechanical pencils. People were blown away by the fact that they could _erase_.”

Harry laughed along with her, and it sobered (y/n) a little. She shook her head, “But that’s enough about _my_  school days, what about yours? How’s Hogwarts treating you?”

The boy slowly began to relax, opening up about his first few years, his classes, the teachers he liked, who his friends were, and his enemies, too. Harry went on about Draco for a while, annoyance and frustration lacing his voice as he complained. (y/n) found his description rather familiar which prompted her to ask, “Wait, what did you say his last name was?”

“Malfoy, why?”

(y/n) audibly groaned.

“I went to school with his father. Lucius has to be the _biggest_ prick I’ve ever met. I think I broke his nose once. Headbutted the guy my fourth year.” She stated, sipping at her coffee.

Harry smiled, “Hermione punched Draco in the mouth this year.”

“Good for her.” (y/n) mused.

...

Elissa and the others could only make out a bit of the conversation as they eavesdropped on the pair, but what they did hear left them feeling content. (y/n) had always seemed so reserved and lonely. The way she spoke with this boy, laughing, and talking animatedly as she ate breakfast was new. Having this boy around was going to be good for her, and the people of the small village were happy that she finally wasn’t so alone.


	4. People Feel Like Home.

The summer flew by, and with each day Harry and (y/n) became fonder and fonder of each other.

He’d been tasked with delivering medications to some of the townspeople for a bit of extra spending money. It wasn’t like he needed it, the kid was loaded, but it was just easier not to go all the way to Diagon Alley and exchange galleons for muggle money if he was just earning some himself. The elderly Mrs. Baker was extra fond of the boy, always making him come in for sweets stating that he was deathly thin, which he was, he’d always been, and the hand-me-down clothes didn’t help his appearance at all so the woman never allowed him to leave until she’d stuffed him with brownies and pie.

He’d also taken to helping (y/n) out in the greenhouse. He’d never been all that interested in botany and herbology, but he found himself enjoying the topic when it was being taught by (y/n).

“I wish you were my Herbology professor, I don’t think I’d mind the topic so much if you were.”

(y/n) had tutted at him, “Professor Sprout is a wonderful teacher, and a wonderful head of house. She’s so warm and patient, how can you not enjoy her class?” she put the small pair of clippers down as she faced him.

Harry’s face scrunched in confusion, “(y/n), were you… a Hufflepuff?”

She nodded in confirmation; face still bewildered as she scanned the look of confusion on his face.

“I just figured--you know, all your friends were in Gryffindor, I figured you were, too.”

She hummed in agreement as she turned back to her pruning, “They weren’t my only friends, just my closest. It isn’t really all that surprising, Hufflepuffs tend to fit in anywhere. I had a few friends in Ravenclaw, Slytherin, _a lot_ of friends in Hufflepuff, I _was_ on the quidditch team…”

Harry stood, trying to process everything. He’d just learned several new things about her all at once; She was a Hufflepuff, she played quidditch, she’d had friends in _Slytherin_ …

“You play?” he decided to focus on the one topic he could relate to.

“Yep, played from third to seventh year. Beater. Almost made captain, but in fifth year the entire Slytherin team tried to kill me mid-game, so I was out for the rest of the season with a dislocated shoulder. They gave the position to a girl in the year behind me.” She grumbled.

Again, Harry could not believe she’d had Slytherin friends.

…

The last dinner before Harry left the village for the school year was had in the gazebo-like porch as their owls were out hunting for the night. Fae lights hung from the rafters, illuminating the surrounding area as they ate at the outside bistro table, giving the whole yard space an ethereal glow. (y/n) had made lamb steaks and was enjoying a bit of wine. She’d allowed Harry to have a _sip_ , but afterward, he’d promptly told her he’d stick to water.

“This has been a lovely summer,” (y/n) mused, “I don’t know how I’m going to occupy myself once you leave, perhaps I’ll try and write another book. What do you think about an adventure novel about an orphan boy prophesized to defeat a great evil?”

Harry stopped mid-chew to stare at her. He couldn’t say a single smart thing with all the food in his mouth, but the look he gave her said plenty.

“What, too on-the-nose?”

He swallowed with some effort before speaking again. “This has been the best school break I’ve ever had. Honestly, I think this is the first time I’ve ever felt sad about going back to Hogwarts.”

(y/n) smiled with sympathy, “Well, don’t feel like that, Enjoy your time there. These are going to be the easiest, and most lively years of your life, live them to the fullest while you can, and learn as much as possible. Believe me, you’ll use all the information you’re going there to learn.”

Harry had muttered a sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ under his breath as he got up to clear the dishes.

 “Hey,” she said suddenly, getting his attention as he’d turned to go inside, “don’t you ever feel sad to leave this place. It’ll always be here for you, I promise.”

…  


Sirius knew this was turning into a bad habit. He knew if he didn’t want to get caught, he should just stay at the safe house, but he couldn’t stay away. Watching (y/n) and Harry interact and live comfortably and contently was addicting.

It was also painful in the most agonizing way. He should _be there._ It’s his right to be. He should be next to them, eating the food that smelled absolutely mouthwatering and laughing along as he watches Harry’s face scrunch up at the taste of wine.

He should be there, assuring Harry that this was his home. He could see himself there with them. Maybe he’d have his hand on her thigh, or he’d clutch her hand on the table as they spoke to their godson…

The black dog shook his head, letting out a hard breath from his snout. This truly was unhealthy, but for the moment, it was the only way he got to see her. Got to see _them_.

Remus said he shouldn’t, that it wasn’t fair to her that he got to see her, but she couldn’t see him, and he knew that. If he wanted to check up on her, he should just send her a letter. Remus had gone out of his way to run out and purchase parchment and ink for him to do just that, but every time he tried to write something, he came up blank.

What was he supposed to say? What could he possibly write to her that would break through the barrier of the twelve years they’d spent becoming strangers to each other?

Did she even still consider him a friend, or was he just a dark shadow from her past? Did she ever think of him? If Remus was correct, she never stopped believing his innocence. That had to count for something, right?

 _Yes,_ he decided, _it had to._

If only so that he could keep his sanity.

…

Breakfast the next morning was had at the tavern, and when Elissa was informed it would be the last breakfast with Harry for the summer, she’d dramatically gone, “No” about a hundred times.

“That’s what I said,” (y/n) chuckled as Elissa clasped her hands, begging Harry to stay just one more night, “But I have to take him out to Ottery St Catchpole today. His schoolmate lives out there, and their family promised to take him to a game and drop him off at the academy for me.”

Elissa hummed knowingly, though she really had no idea what (y/n) had actually meant.

“Big football fan, are ya? Big game coming up--bit jealous you’ll be there in person, but have fun. Maybe I’ll see you in the stands on the telly.”

News spread quickly throughout the little town, especially when Elissa got hold of the info, and so the news of Harry’s departure was soon common knowledge. Mrs. Baker had given Harry a Tupperware container of cookies to take with him on the trip and had pinched his cheek affectionately, and the young couple that lived near the outskirts had given their car a friendly wave goodbye as the pair had made their way out towards the Weasley homestead.

Harry stared out the window as they’d driven through the village. It’d only been a few months, but it already felt like home. He knew the people, and they knew him. They must have known something was different about the odd pair that lived in the curious cottage up on the hill:

The spinster in her early thirties that grew odd plants that could cure any ailment, who kept track of when the next full moon was and owned a barn owl she used to send letters; who carried an ornate stick in the neck of her boot and read a newspaper that they could have sworn had a moving picture, her orphaned ward with an impossibly shaped scar on his forehead, who used odd terms of phrase like ‘Merlin’s beard’ and ‘good Godric’…

They must have noticed by now, after a decade of watching the lonely young woman that something wasn’t quite the same, but they didn’t care, and they didn’t pry. They accepted her. She was one of them; and now, Harry was, too.

…

(y/n) had given Harry such a tight squeeze goodbye as she’d left the Burrow. Molly had practically forced her to stick around so they could catch up, and Molly could see how (y/n) had been faring since their Order of the Phoenix days.

Now, however, the sky was just beginning to get dark, and if she wanted to get to bed at a reasonable hour, she’d already stayed too long.

“Have fun at school, and at the game— _don’t_ tell me who wins, I’m recording it, and _write to me._ If anything happens, or if you need even the smallest thing, send an Owl and I’ll rush to help.”

He’d agreed, returning the hug with a bit of embarrassment as the twins stood behind him in the doorway of their home, grinning like piranha who just caught the scent of chum in the water.

“You’re never going to let him forget that you saw this, are you?” Ginny accused with not even a hint of amusement from behind her older brothers.

“Never.” They said simultaneously.

…

(y/n) could craft a downright _nasty_ Howler. This was something the entirety of Hogwarts--as well as Durmstrang and Beauxbaton--learned one morning a few days after the first trial had been scheduled. Harry had sat down groggily to breakfast, rolling his eyes as Ron flat out ignored him.

He’d just finished spooning eggs onto his plate when the red envelope landed in front of him. He found the object vaguely familiar, but he was too tired and too inexperienced with magical parenting techniques to be appropriately cautious. peeling the seal on the letter, he jumped back when it flew from his hand and began to boom at him.

He hadn’t even been aware (y/n)’s voice could get that loud, but it practically shook the rafters.

 **“ _Harry James Potter_! What the actual _fuck_? How did you manage to get your name put in, _and drawn out of_ the freaking _Goblet of Fire_? **Oh, who am I kidding? You’re James’s son, _of course,_ you figured it out…. **Oh, but that’s not the _point_ , is it? I don’t get an Owl, or an Ember Message or _anything_ to tell me this was going on? I have to learn about all of this from Rita Fucking Skeeter? Are you _kidding_ me? Really? _REALLY_? It didn’t for _one second_ occur to you that I might like to know that you will be dying a very slow and painful and _incredibly unnecessary_ death sometime in the near future? Are you _trying_ to give me a stroke, Young Man? I just got you back, and now I might lose you without even a ‘heads up’ first! You know how upsetting that is, right? You know how much that upsets me, _right???_ Do _not_ expect to be let out of my sight over Christmas break. I will be on you, like flies on _crap_. There will be no wandering alone in the village, or visiting friends, or going to Christmas parties, _no_. You will be in the house, at all times, so that I can spend what little time I might have left with my soon-to-be-dead godson. Do you hear me, Mister? I swear on Helga Hufflepuff’s Left, Weighty, _Tit_ : If you get gobbled up by something, or they have to send you back to me as a pile of ashes in a shoe box, I will _personally_ track down the resurrection stone of legend just so I can _properly and thoroughly ground you.”_**

With the dangerously threatening tone she used to sound out every syllable of that last five words, the Letter flew right up into his face as if the letter itself had been the one issuing the threat of punishment before it tore itself to pieces right in front of him.

He could hear Ron snickering, as well as Draco’s smart comment from across the room.

Many people around him whispered.

 “who was that? I thought his parents died.”

“was that the person that’s been raising him?”

The twins had gotten up and begun a slow clap until almost every single person at the Gryffindor table was wildly applauding and wolf whistling the woman who’d just chewed out Harry freaking Potter in front of three entire schools.

but Harry was hardly embarrassed, or ashamed, or even upset.

He’d never had someone who cared enough about him to send him a howler before. He’d never had someone to be a _parent_ for him. He found himself grinning at the torn-up letter, feeling upbeat and light for the first time since his name flew from the goblet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you people like the village because I have a really fucking solid and emotional plot point that involves them in mind. It'll especially impact Elissa.


	5. Love Letters

By the time Christmas break rolled around, he and Ron were on speaking terms again, but it was still a rather frigid atmosphere, as Hermione still wasn’t completely over the events of the Yule Ball. Harry didn’t really care, he was shifting in his seat with anticipation, heart leaping as he began to see King’s Cross appear in the distance from the window.

“Jeeze, Harry, got to pee or something?” Ron questioned as he watched his friend squirm.

“What? No. No, I’m just, excited. I’ve never gone home for Christmas break before.” He stated, heart, pounding in excitement.

“But Harry, you’ll most likely be grounded.” Hermione pointed out.

“I know. I’ve never been grounded before. I mean, I’ve been punished before, just not grounded. Everything’s new.”

His friends, though they were fighting, shared a look. They were perplexed over his excitement, but they tried to be supportive, anyway.

They just didn’t get it. They’d had family and parents forever. Sure, he might have technically been related to the Dursleys, but they weren’t family, really. They never welcomed him home or were happy to see him… (y/n) might be mad when she saw him, but she’d be glad he was okay, and she’d be happy to have him home. That was something to be excited about.

…

As he got off the train, he immediately saw her, her lips were pursed and eyebrows drawn together as she crossed her arms, left hip jutting out as she put her weight on the opposite leg. He’d seen the pose a few times, though never directed at him.

“Oh, look who’s still alive.” She stated flatly as he approached, “Hear you fought a fucking dragon.”

He held his arms out for her to inspect him, “Special delivery, one extra-crispy godson for (y/n) (l/n).”

Her lips pursed further, though now it was in an attempt to not smile. To stay mad. She failed, wrapping him securely in her arms, swaying back and forth with him as he reciprocated.

“Welcome home, you adorable little disaster magnet, Godric, I’m so glad you’re alright.” She breathed, “you’re still in trouble, though.”

…

Harry knew she was a Hufflepuff, he’d just never been able to picture her as one, walking around the school in yellow robes alongside Sirius and Remus, but now he kind of could. They’d stopped into Elissa’s tavern on the way home for a bit of lunch, ruffling snow from their hair and removing their coats. (y/n) had removed hers to reveal that underneath, she wore her old school scarf, secured in place with a badger pin. The colors suited her.

 Elissa had been overjoyed to see the boy back, exclaiming a friendly hello from her place at the bar. A few of the other locals welcomed him as well as the two sat at the booth in the back corner of the restaurant.

“How’s school been?” the woman asked, placing warm drinks in front of the pair

“Brilliant! Loads of fun being back there.”

Elissa smiled, “What’s your favorite subject this year?” she asked

Harry gave (y/n) a panicked look, one that (y/n) shrugged at and mouthed, ‘History?’

“H-History.”

Elissa quirked a brow at the pair, but continued to smile, “Those who fail to learn, are doomed to repeat it, I guess… I’ll be back with your food.”

…

Harry had been grounded, but he found it really wasn’t all that bad. He couldn’t go and visit Ron, though he’d been invited to spend a part of break with them, he could still write, and he wasn’t confined to his room, either. He could wander the house, and read, and do holiday-like activities he’d never gotten to experience.

(y/n) had Christmas music playing softly throughout the house, and the Fae lights had been charmed to give off yellow and white colored lighting to match the gold and wintery Christmas decorations. They’d decorated a tree and made cookies, it was comfortably quiet. not like the bustle he’d once experienced at the Weasley home, or suffocatingly silent like Hogwarts, it was just calm.

Molly had sent gifts, as she always did, Weasly sweaters with their initials. Harry’s red and gold, and (y/n) got one in yellow and black. They’d worn them around the house Christmas night, the warm, lovingly stitched overshirts providing them cozy comfort as they sat in front of the fire watching Christmas specials on (y/n)’s muggle television.

“I sort of remember this one, the Dursleys watched it every year, though normally I didn’t like sitting and spending time with them.”

(y/n) scrunched her nose, “I never liked this one. They harass and bully the poor thing because he’s different, but as soon as they need him for something, they suddenly want him around.”

Harry was about to argue when he looked out the window to see how much snow had fallen. Something out in the grass caught his eye.

“...Sirius?” he stated with confusion as he spotted the black dog out in the yard.

(y/n) whipped around so fast to see what he was looking at that she felt something snap at the back of her neck. Lo and behold, outside was a very familiar looking big black dog.

She got up from her chair, hurrying out into the snow to investigate as Harry followed.

When the dog saw them coming, it wagged it’s tail slightly.

“Sirius… is that... is that really you?” (y/n) asked hesitantly, holding her hand out to touch the animal, it simply barked, bouncing around her, refusing to let her touch him, before scurrying back into the grass. She tried chasing after the beast, but she slipped in the snow, falling on her butt.

It must have just been a normal stray, then. He hadn’t come to see her.

“Odd, it really looked like him, too,” Harry muttered.

(y/n) couldn’t hold back anymore; she started sobbing.

The tears were hot on her eyes but grew cold and unforgiving as they fell down her cheeks.

Harry hurried to kneel next to her.

“He hasn’t visited me, Harry. Not once. He keeps in contact with Remus, and with you, but he hasn’t even written me a god damn letter. I just wish he’d reach out. Am I not important enough to contact?” she questioned pathetically.

Harry thought back to the night he’d met Sirius. They’d been making their way out of the shrieking shack when Sirius mentioned her.

“And uh… how’s (y/n)? She ever forgive me?” he questioned hesitantly. Harry had been convinced Sirius was guilty, which meant, she had to think that, too. The thought left him so heartsick he was breathless, but not as much as when Harry’d given him an odd look and said:

“Who?”

He didn’t know who she was? Why? She was his godmother; he should have been staying with her. Was she alright?

“Remus, he doesn’t know her, why doesn’t he know her? Where is she?” he’d panicked, almost as crazed as he’d been up in the shack when he’d finally confronted Peter.

Remus had grasped his arms, trying to calm him, but that was nigh impossible.

“She’s fine, she’s just fine.”

“Well, then why doesn’t she-”

“She refused to believe you were guilty. You know her; she made a big stink about you not being given a trial, and they took away her custody for it. Don’t fret, she’s in the process of getting it back.”

Hearing that she was alright, and still fighting allowed the rabid fear to finally disperse. Harry barely knew Sirius, and he didn’t know a thing about (y/n), but he could tell by the way she was spoken of that the pair cared a great deal for each other.

Which is why, when he looked back on that moment as he watched (y/n) sit in the snow, crying over not being important to the man Harry now knew she deeply and truly loved, he wanted to break down, too.

He hugged her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t important enough, it was that she was too important. He was afraid of how she’d react and how she might feel towards him after all the time apart. Harry really loved Sirius, but as he helped (y/n) back into the house, urging her to change into something warm and dry, he wished he’d stop being such a coward.

…

That’d been close.

Too close.

_Note to self: no matter how dark it is, black dog on white background stands out._

She’d almost touched him. He could have let her, why didn’t he let her?

He’d panicked and pretended to be a normal dog for some irrational need to stay undiscovered. Why did he do that? What was he afraid of? judging by the way she rushed out, it was clear she’d wanted to see him, maybe he should go back…

He was almost back out of the tall grass when he heard her start to cry, lamenting about him not reaching out. He stayed in the shadows as he watched Harry lead her back inside.

He scrunched his eyes, completely hating himself. He had to stop doing this. It’d just drive them both mad.

…

 

_~~My darling~~ _

_~~My lovely~~ _

_~~Dearest~~ _

_(y/n),_

_~~I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long~~ _

_~~I know you probably don’t want to hear from me~~ _

_I know I’ve made a mess of things, waiting as long as I did to write. ~~Please don’t be~~ you have every right to be mad. I know, it’s a poor excuse, but I honestly put it off because, how could I possibly put twelve wasted years of ~~loving~~ ~~pining~~ ~~longing~~ missing you into words, let alone fit all of it into an appropriate length for a letter? Remus tells me you never stopped believing me innocent, and ~~I’ll forever cherish~~ ~~you need to know that~~ I wish there was a way to express what that means to me. I hope you and Harry are doing well, and that you’re happy, wherever you ended up. ~~I hope you think of me often.~~ ~~I know it’s too much to ask for you to~~ ~~if you deem me worthy of~~ If you decide you aren’t too royally pissed at me, I’ve instructed the owl to wait for your response. I really do hope to hear from you, ~~my love~~ ~~my dear~~ my friend._

_Yours always,_

_Sirius._

He finished the letter, sighing and frazzled. Remus read it over his shoulder, providing moral support, and also damage control as he read it, nodding.

“This one, I believe, is appropriate to send; though I would re-write it without all the crossed-out brooding and love confessions.” He stated, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Sirius glared at him from his place at the writing desk. “Honestly, piss off. This was your idea in the first place.”

“Yes, because it’s a healthy and rational alternative to stalking her outside her home as a mangy dog.”

“I got fleas _once_. I never had mange.”

Remus chuckled as he moved to another part of the safehouse

“So, you admit to the stalking, then.”

…

_Sirius,_

_My dear friend. You have no clue how ecstatic I am to finally hear from you! I was beginning to fear you’d forgotten all about me, though I understand completely why you felt you couldn’t write. I almost feared there was no way to reconnect, but now that I’ve finally heard from you, I don’t know why I was ever so worried. It feels good, writing to you again. Almost like things are good, and normal. I’ve missed you, every day you’ve been gone, and I’ll miss you every day we’re still apart. I long to see you (and Remus; I assume you’re together, as you mentioned him, and he never seems to visit anymore-- Remus.), but I suppose, I’ll have to wait for the right time. Harry misses you dearly as well, you’re lack of presence here is felt profoundly. We actually chased a stray dog around our yard Christmas evening, thinking it might have been you. Silly of us, I know. Still, it’s a testament to our affection for you. Please, do write to me again soon, as this letter has brought me immeasurable relief and peace of mind._

_Yours always,_

_(y/n)._

Sirius smiled fondly at the letter. How did she manage to sound so professional, and so friendly all at once? She’d always had an amazing voice when she wrote, and it was good to see she hadn’t lost that, though now he was beginning to dwell on the fact that her letter felt so much more affectionate and sincere than his had.

It was something he continued to worry about for the rest of the evening, as he pondered what she might be thinking.


	6. Magic Exposed

(y/n) sat in the stands, staring out as Harry and the others disappeared into the maze.

She looked around, the band was playing the same five measure song over and over. If they were going to be doing that the entire time, she was going to absolutely lose it at some point, but after the participants disappeared from view they stopped playing, much to her relief.

“So, are we just supposed to sit here and…stare at a hedge maze?” she muttered after a bit.

“It would seem so.” Her companion confirmed, sticking his hand out for her to shake, “Amos Diggory, my son is one of the champions. He’ll win, just you watch.”

She smiled kindly, taking his hand “Well, we’ll just have to see, because my godson, Harry, has a way of getting into trouble and coming out a hero.” She informed as she pointed towards the maze.

“That would make you…(y/n) (l/n). Cedric’s told me what he knows about you, which isn’t much. Just that you’re a Hufflepuff, you look after Harry Potter, and you once sent a howler so explosive it got a standing ovation.”

She hadn’t known about that last part. She flushed a little, laughing off the slight embarrassment as she continued to talk with the man, going back and forth talking about their champions.

When the last of the people made it from the maze, Triwizard cup in their hands, the band started up again much to (y/n)’s annoyance, but something was off. Amos could feel it, too as they both made their way out of the stands. Her companion was ahead of her, and by the time she thought to catch up with him, she couldn’t see what was happening on the field anymore, as she was surrounded by a crowd also trying to get a look.

She pushed her way forward until she found who she was looking for.

The screams and the cries emanated from all around, but (y/n) was deaf to it. Her vision was trained on the boy in the middle of the field being torn away from his dead friend as he sobbed. She pushed and shoved her way on to the field, fighting teachers and security until she reached the crying boy, frisking him for injuries, and cupping his face, scanning it and the undeniable grief in his features.

She blinked, and tears fell down her cheeks as well as she pulled the boy to her, clutching him to her person and stroking at his hair. She didn’t know the boy on the ground. She’d only just met his father, however, he had been Harry’s friend, and he was a Hufflepuff, like her. She mourned all the same.

…

This summer, the car ride back to the cottage was quiet, though not for the same reasons from the summer before. The awkwardness was replaced with sadness, and fear. She hated it. Hated that he would be spending his summer in such a glum mood.

…

She growled as she read the Daily Prophet.  She was sitting in the corner of the tavern, waiting for Harry to finish his delivery to Mrs. Baker and come meet her for dinner.

“Angry at the paper?” Elissa asked, trying to sneak a view at the headlines (y/n) was reading before she could quickly and casually fold it so it hid the moving pictures and bizarre headlines, “I can understand that. The world is getting crazy.”

“Yes. There’s this one particular story I was reading today, this boy witnessed a murder, but no one believes him because the government is denying that the culprit is involved. Honestly, every article I’ve read about the incident is just tearing the poor boy down! He’s just a _teenager_! His friend was _killed_! If they aren’t targeting him, they’re targeting his mother, blaming her because a decade ago the boy’s father was jailed without trial for a crime he didn’t commit and she’s still fighting it.” She huffed.

She’d had to bend the truth a little, but it felt cathartic to let out some of this frustration.

“and the worst part is, I think they’re telling the truth. On both counts. And no one believes them because the government is denying the whole thing even happened.”

(y/n) was so downtrodden. Elissa was about to put her hand comfortingly on the woman’s shoulder when Harry burst into the tavern.

“(y/n), come quick!”

The woman got to her feet almost instantaneously, hurrying out the door to follow her godson, allowing the Prophet to blow open. Curiously, Elissa began to read.

…

When they got back to the home of Mrs. Baker, (y/n) stood in shock. The elderly woman was laying on the floor, eyes wide and still as a statue. A quick check determined she was still breathing, and hurriedly, (y/n) helped the catatonic woman into her bedroom, setting her down on the comforter.

“What happened?” (y/n) asked, professionalism thinly masking fear.

“Dementors. I was delivering the leaves when they just- showed up. Two of them. I had to cast a Patronus to protect us.”

(y/n) shook her head. “Dementors are under Ministry control, why would they attack a muggle?”

Harry shook his head, “dunno, maybe these two went rouge?”

“They don’t do that.” (y/n) informed harshly.

She got up, “I have a potion already brewed at home that should help. Makes people happy… _don’t_ ask me why I have it on hand, please. Just... stay here with her and talk with her… it might help.”

…

Elissa read, dumbfounded. Witches and wizards… what? Articles about Harry being a liar, and… Voldemort? Who in the hell names their child ‘Voldemort’? _Obviously_ , that guy was going to become a serial killer, I mean… honestly. She’d supposed, she always knew something was off about the quiet woman who never let people in on her business. Her medicines worked like magic, guess that was because they _were_.

“Elissa, Sweetheart!” one of the townspeople called, already drunk at 6:30 in the evening, “What are you reading over there?”

With a panic, Elissa balled up the paper and threw it into the nearby fireplace. “Oh, just… old newspaper headlines from the kindling. How about another round, Mason?”

The man hooted, telling the young woman she’s read his mind as he promptly forgets about the paper she’d just been reading.

…

When Mrs. Baker had finally woken back up, it was because (y/n) had poured the potion into the woman’s mouth, forcing her to swallow it.

“What happened? I remember Harry delivering my medicine, and then being forced to the ground and then… Harry… he made this beautiful blue light. It looked like a deer…”

(y/n) sighed, “That must have been a hallucination, Mrs. Baker, or a dream. Harry found you passed out on the floor. I _told_ you, you shouldn’t have canceled your prescription.”

Mrs. Baker shook her head, sure of what she’d seen. “No, no. There was something here. Harry saw it, and he saved me. I felt like… I’d never be happy again. It was taking memories of Herbert from me… Harry saved me. Such a good boy…” the woman rambled.

“It was a dream, Helen.” (y/n) insisted gently, but the damage had been done.

They returned to the cottage, tried, frustrated, and when (y/n) realized they’d never returned to the tavern, they found they were hungry, too.

“More Ministry threats.” (y/n) grumbled as she fumbled with the empty potion bottle she’d used on Mrs. Baker, “This one resulted in a muggle seeing magic. How in the hell is the ministry going to fix this one?”

Like magic, an owl with a Ministry marked letter in its beak flew into the cottage through the open, circular window.

 _Oh, this ought to be good_. (y/n) thought as she waited for Harry to open it. The letter personified.

“Dear Mister Potter; The ministry had received intelligence that at 6:23 this evening you performed the Patronus charm in the presence of a muggle. As a clear violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, you are hereby, expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk”

(y/n) blinked several times before she screamed so loud, she was certain the people out in the village could hear her.

“Are they completely serious?”

…

(y/n) had been stomping around the reading nook for about an hour after she sent Harry to bed for the evening, he’s had quite the day.

That was when she heard the knock. It was probably one of her neighbors coming to check on her after she’d exploded and started cursing at the top of her lungs in the backyard.

She opened to door with a strained smile before she took in her guests. Tonks. Kingsly. Moody. A few others she didn’t really recognize, but they seemed to be there with good news if the triumphant smirk on the younger woman’s face said anything.

She was still pissed though. “Moody. You work for the ministry, what the _fuck_ was that? Are they sending Dementors after their enemies like attack dogs now? And they just… expelled Harry. He was defending himself _and_ someone else. They can’t just _do_ that.”

“That’s what we’re here to fix. Dumbledore convinced the ministry to postpone his expulsion until after a hearing.”

(y/n) sighed, tiredly. “If he had that power, why didn’t he use it fourteen years ago for Sirius?”

Her mumbled question was ignored as Moody limped into her house, not waiting to be invited in; same as last time. He stumbled through her home. “Where’s the boy?”

She scrunched her nose. “He’s asleep? Because it’s almost midnight? Why are you here so late?”

“We had to make sure we wouldn’t be spotted,” Tonks informed, like it was obvious.

“Spotted by who--doing what exactly?” she said, asking two questions at once in her frustrated confusion.

The others looked around at each other with knowing smirks before they looked back at her.

It had been a long night, and (y/n) could tell that it was far from over.

 


	7. It's a Date

“What are we doing here?” (y/n) questioned flatly as she gazed tiredly at her companions.

“You’ve been here?” Harry questioned as he looked at the quiet muggle apartment building.

“A few times. You know those muggle stories about old haunted witch houses? Well, this one’s for real.” She informed, voice dripping with displeasure.

In front of their eyes, the building expanded, allowing 12 Grimmauld Place to form.

Tonks snorted as Harry was ushered in, “You still haven’t figured out why we’re here?”

(y/n) blinked, once, then twice. Was he…? Her face must have given everything away, because the young woman gave a wicked chuckle, patting her shoulder as she moved to go inside.

Sirius was in there. Her heartbeat picked up as she quickly hopped up the steps, following the others through the hall. Would he be the same person she remembered? Would he recognize her? Would their interactions be awkward, unfamiliar? Was she about to reconnect with a stranger who had Sirius’s face?

So many questions flooded her mind, and everything was muddled, until she spotted him in the dining room, arguing with the others. when he stared out at the hall at her and Harry, he gave a smile and suddenly, she didn’t know why she was worried at all, because he was smiling at her as if nothing in the world mattered now that she was there.

She squeezed passed Harry as Molly moved to greet him, joining the others in the meeting room, “Everyone’s yelling angrily at each other and no one bothered to invite me?”

She sat down at the table across from Sirius and Remus, beaming over at him.

“Well, you know, we thought about it, but we figured; Hufflepuffs aren’t really fans of conflict, are they?” Sirius snarked

(y/n) scoffed before Remus informed her that Dumbledore had requested that they wait until after Harry was at Hogwarts for the year. (y/n) shook her head in confusion before she really thought about it and began to nod instead.

“I suppose I get it. He’d want to get involved, and I want him as far from all of this as he can get.”

“I agree. It’s not good for him, I just sent him up to the others.” Molly pipped up as she came back through the doors.

“He’s not a child, you two. If anyone deserves to know all of this, it’s Harry. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t even know You-Know-Who was back in the first place.” Sirius sighed. By the way he said it, this must not have been the first time they argued over it.

“He _is_ a child, Sirius, he’s fifteen. He’s fifteen, and already his involvement in all of this has made him a target for public slander and attacks by the ministry itself. They sent _Dementors_ after him.” (y/n) insisted.

“Being parental figures truly suits the two of you, bickering like an old married couple. Perhaps the boy will turn out a felon, or a lonely hermit.” Severus griped.

“Stay out of this, Snivellus.” Sirius sneered, “we all know you’re only here to keep up appearances and listen in, anyway. I know you aren’t truly ‘reformed’.”

(y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose, “Oh, honestly, you two, you’re still at this? Why don’t you just whip them out and count the millimeters? This circular arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Though she and a few of the others pointed out the frequent amount of times the discussion devolved into petty squabbles, they still talked themselves in circles for the rest of the meeting. It was frustrating. For many reasons. Not the least of which being that he was right there, just within reach, but she couldn’t greet him properly with the meeting going on.

He seemed well. He seemed like Sirius. Even after a decade, he hadn’t changed much. Personality wise, anyway. In appearance, he’d changed tremendously. He no longer had the boyish charm he once had, instead, it was replaced with the handsome features of an older man, complete with streaks of grey in his hair. He was only, what? 35? He shouldn’t have grey hair yet, though she supposed, the stress might do that. He was every bit the silver fox she envisioned when she thought of an older Sirius Black.

…

When the meeting concluded, Harry had rushed down the stairs to greet Sirius, only to find that Sirius had moved to greet (y/n). He found her in the reading room, looking at the shelves and shelves of books. When she’d felt his presence, she turned to smile at him.

“(y/n).” He stated breathlessly.

“Hello, Sirius,” She greeted back.

He rushed to her, and she let out a joyous noise of surprise when she felt him wrap her in an embrace and spin her in a quick circle before he put her back on the ground, enveloping her in his arms. He was warm and familiar, and he smelled like Amortentia. He wasn’t some long-lost love from a dramatic romance, or a stranger in her friend’s body, or a man distant and scarred from prison, he was just… Sirius. He was just home.

 “My goodness, Sirius, you’ve gotten…”

“Handsome? Sexy? Dashing? Roguish?”

“ _Old_.” She corrected with a giggle.

He mocked offense before responding: “Well you haven’t aged a day; you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

Harry felt almost like an intruder as he watched them converse. The way they were looking at each other… If Harry wasn’t certain of his own existence, he would have sworn they were the only two people in the universe right now.

He shifted from foot to foot, suddenly feeling like he shouldn’t quite be there when Sirius spotted the movement and turned to him, still smiling wide as the man moved to hug him as well.

…

(y/n) angrily paced in the reading room, continuously stopping to stare at the front door only to pace again.

“He’ll be fine, (y/n). He’s done nothing wrong, and Dumbledore promised to be there to defend him.” Sirius tried to soothe, though she wasn’t listening.

She hadn’t listened when Remus said it thirty minutes ago, and she won’t listen when one of them tries to comfort her twenty minutes from now.

Sirius got up with a sigh, moving to grip her shoulders to stop her movements.

“(y/n),” he started, looking down at her, but she wouldn’t let him continue.

“My life is in pieces. Two of my closest friends are dead, another is a traitor in service to the dark wizard that killed them, and the final two are discriminated and hated based on things they can’t control or didn’t do, and now, my godson might be expelled because the ministry is so corrupt they send monsters that literally suck peoples souls out after a teenage boy, I _think_ I have the right to _pace_ for a little bit.”

If she’d kept the same biting tone she’d started with, he probably would have let her go and left her alone. As she’d continued, however, her voice had gotten weaker and wobblier. So instead, Sirius wrapped her in a hug, petting her hair as she begrudgingly reciprocated.

“You don’t think I’m worried, too?” he questioned, “Working yourself into a tizzy isn’t going to help you.”

“I should be there right now. I want to be. I deserve to be yelling at Fudge outside of a howler for once.”

“You _know_ you’re still not allowed in the ministry building, and besides, they’d just use your stance on my innocence against Harry.” He pointed out.

She pulled away, pouting. “I know you’re right, but…”

“I know. I want to be there, too, you know.”

He was right. (y/n) hadn’t even considered how stressed _he_ might be in all of this. Sometimes, it was hard to forget that she wasn’t Harry’s only godparent, she was just the one who got to spend the most time with him. That wasn’t fair. Not even a little bit. Suddenly, she wasn’t mad about the trial, she was mad that Sirius wasn’t with them.

He should be living at the cottage with them, living his life, and being a part of theirs.

Her train of thought was derailed when the front door opened, and Harry appeared back in the house. The portrait of Sirius’s mom made a big stink, but she was promptly ignored as Harry moved his way into the room the others were already in.

“Well?” she questioned without patience.

“I’ve been cleared. That couple at the edge of town? They’re spies sent by Dumbledore to watch out for us. They testified in my defense.”

Relief fueled the embrace both godparents wrapped him in. It was almost like having a normal family, Harry mused.

…

(y/n) knocked at the door before making her way inside.

“Sirius? I’ve brought groceries.” She informed, calling through the house for him.

(y/n) had been appointed the role of caretaker, checking in on her friend once or twice a week, bringing food and supplies to the safe house. She still hated going there.

Every time she went, she had flashbacks to the summer before sixth year, when she, Remus, and James had gone with Sirius to pack his belongings so he could stay with the Potters. Sirius’s younger brother had been there, too, curiously watching from to doorway of his room. She’d greeted him with a smile, but he’d simply turned back into his bedroom and slammed the door.

His mother had been furious, at (y/n) especially. Cursing at her, calling her a harlot and a siren who’d seduced her son into thinking dangerous things. (y/n) had had a stiff upper lip, simply ignoring the woman as she’d helped Sirius pack while Remus and James had shielded her from the wrath of Mrs. Black.

Now, no one was there to provide a buffer as the woman’s portrait caught sight of her.

“Ugh, you again! Get out of my house, muggle scum! I will not have you flouncing about my house, you little trollop, I simply won’t!” the painting screamed at her.

Sirius’s tired voice sounded from somewhere else in the house as he called for the portrait to quiet. Surprisingly, she did, choosing instead to continue muttering insults under her breath as she watched (y/n) continue through the house. She found him in the reading area, and when he caught sight of her, he got up from his place on the loveseat, following her on her way to put the groceries away.

“You never visit unless you have to. Do you not enjoy my company?” he questioned as he leaned in the doorway to watch her.

“More like I loathe being in this house more than absolutely necessary.” She corrected with a small smile.

He scoffed, looking about the old, creaking house, “How do you think _I_ feel? I’m trapped in this place with only my mother for company. If I hadn’t already lost my marbles in Azkaban, I’ve certainly lost them here.”

She smiled with sympathy as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “Did you get any letters from Harry? He never tells me anything, I don’t think he wants me worrying. All I ever get is ‘everything’s fine, please send snacks’.”

He laughed a little. “It’s because when you worry, you go all mother bear. Honestly, Remus once said you’re worse than Molly about it. I wholeheartedly agree, by the way.”

She sighed, hanging her head. She just wanted her friends to be safe and happy, was that such a bad thing?

“Don’t fret, it’s one of the many things I adore about you, my dear.” He assured.

She kept her head down, not wanting him to see the heavy flush on her cheeks. Damn it, was she still blushing at everything he said? She was in her thirties for Godric’s sake!

“You adore a lot of things about a lot of women, as I recall,” she replied playfully after a beat.

He chuckled, moving to lean over the counter opposite her so that their noses almost touched, “Yes, but you were always different in my eyes, you know that.”

 _Yes, I do know that._  She thought sadly.

she leaned back, stretching as she began to prepare to leave. He recognized the shift in demeanor and knew she would be gone soon.

When he’d begged Moody to give her the role of checking in on him, he’d imagined that he’d get to see her more often. He did, but she hardly ever stayed for more than ten or twenty minutes. At this point, he was practically begging her to stay longer, but she never seemed to like staying. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it wasn’t just the house, but he wished he knew what was repelling her. She was there, she was happy to see him, but she was still… distant.

When they had been going to school, and while they were in the original Order, she was always so comfortable and affectionate with him, grasping his hands and leaning into him, little friendly touches to show affection. She did it with the others, but not quite as often or as intimately. He’d occasionally pull away, attempting to keep a brotherly distance, and as the years went by, he’d began to wonder if perhaps, she had feelings for him.

Now, however, she was always the one to pull away, whether or not she realized she was doing so.

“I should really get going, soon. The village will notice I’m spending more time away, and as much as I adore our time together Sirius, I’m not the biggest fan of your mother,” she said, nodding to the hall where the portrait was still distantly muttering about the muggle-born stomping through her house with more mud on her boots than in her blood.

“Please, don’t go yet, (n/n) I’m bored to tears here! I can’t leave, I don’t have anyone to talk to most of the time save for you, and you _never_ stick around.” Sirius whined as he blocked her from leaving the kitchen.

She sighed. Elissa was expecting her to stop in for lunch. The woman had become rather observant of her, asking more questions and not seeming as satisfied with the answers as she once had been, though she didn’t seem suspicious, merely curious. If (y/n) didn’t show up, there’d be even more questions she couldn’t completely answer to deal with.

“I _really_ have to get back, Sirius.” She informed, and the way he seemed so downtrodden broke her heart a bit.

She really shouldn’t do this, but…

“I-it’s a muggle town, no one would recognize you, I don’t think…I can only keep you for a couple of hours, and we _can’t_ tell the others. Not even Remus.” She urged.

His heart swelled. He didn’t care if it was a couple of hours or a couple of minutes, so long as he wasn’t in this place. So long as he was with her.

He beamed as she took his hand, preparing to apparate somewhere. He could kiss her. He _wanted_ to kiss her, but he kept himself in check. He’d wondered once if she’d had feelings for him, now he wasn’t sure how she felt about him whatsoever, though she seemed to still be his friend. He was glad of that at least, even if she was more distant than she used to be. Perhaps, he could fix that.

…

The next time he blinked, they were no longer in the dark depressing halls of Grimmauld Place, but in a bright, warm cottage he vaguely recognized. He’d helped build this place.

Those were the shelves he’d built for (y/n) and Lilly.

That was the kitchen Remus and James had soaked themselves in trying to install a sink.

That was the wood paneling Peter had struggled to install in the tall-ceilinged reading nook.

Those were the small, intricate details above the archways that Lilly and (y/n) had painted as they sat on ladders and sang muggle songs together.

It had been theirs, but it was hers, now. Little trinkets and personalizations were strewn about that proved she’d lived in this place and made it her own. She’d lived in it enough for all of them.

Several pictures lined the walls and the shelves, one, in particular, caught Sirius’s eye as he looked around the space with awe. A picture he used to pass all the time when he visited James and Lilly, she must have kept it. It was a bit different now, a part of the frame’s backing was visible from where she’d torn Peter out.

He was satisfied, but also, oddly sad to know she’d done that. She’d always been so protective of Peter, making sure he was never left behind or forgotten. He’d been their friend, but he’d tended to be the odd one out, and (y/n) knew how much it’d bothered the guy. To see her turn her back on him now…He hated what that must have done to her, though Peter did deserve it.

She shifted from foot to foot awkwardly as she watched him walk around. What would he think of her making a place that was supposed to be for all of them into something for just herself? Would he be angry? He didn’t seem to be. He seemed happy, but also rather melancholy behind the eyes.

“I’m glad one of us found a use for this place.” He finally whispered when he looked back over at her.

She smiled awkwardly, gesturing to the front door. “Are you hungry?”

…

The smothering sadness soon dissipated once they began walking towards the village. It became easier to talk with each other as they began to reminisce and joke as they used to.

Sirius was so thrilled to be outside as a human, and not a dog. To feel the sun on his skin, and to joke with an old friend. They were walking close enough for their hands to brush on occasion, but neither of them seemed to mind.

Sirius was boasting about the time he’d stolen contraband back from McGonagall and how he’d never gotten caught, but (y/n) was adamant that it wasn’t because he was clever, but because _she_ was.

“What are you talking about? She never even suspected me.” He insisted as they walked casually through the village. He was nervous that people were recognizing him, as the townspeople would stop and gawk at him as they passed, but (y/n) assured him it was because he was a stranger, not because he was a criminal.

“She did, though. Within the hour, she approached me questioning me about your whereabouts. I swore up and down that you’d been with Remus all afternoon.”

“I _was_ with Remus, though. I made him tag along.”

“I _know_ ,” she stressed, “That’s why I said it that way.”

He paused to stare at her after she said that, laughing loudly before he responded, “Are you sure you’re a Hufflepuff? I’m fairly certain you could have easily been a Slytherin.”

She nodded.

“I know. I’d wanted to be in Hufflepuff. On the train first year, I was bullied by a bunch of Slytherins the whole way to Hogwarts. I practically begged the Sorting Hat to put me in a kinder house.”

She gestured to herself as if to say, ‘ _you know the rest’_.

He simply sighed, shaking his head at her fondly. Leave it to confident, stubborn, (y/n) to charm even the Sorting Hat into giving her what she wants, Godric knows _he’s_ never been able to say ‘no’ to her, though he’s never wanted to.

The conversation ended as they approached the tavern. He held open the door for her, of course, and followed behind her as she went in.

…

Elissa couldn’t _not_ notice her companion this time. The quiet woman had loudly entered the tavern, giggling gleefully as her handsome companion smiled down at her.

She’d gone over to take their order, practically _begging_ (y/n) to introduce her with her eyes.

“Elissa, this is my oldest and dearest friend, Sirius.” She informed as she fondly eyed the man across from her with so much love in her gaze it almost made Elissa step back in surprise.

“Sirius, this is Elissa. She allows me to eat in her tavern free of charge every once in a while because I once did her family a small favor.”

Elissa blinked a few times, still trying to get used to the information that (y/n) had friends, _Plural._ If this man was her oldest and dearest, that means she must have more.

 _Where were they, then?_ She wondered, though now was not the time to pry. Instead, she corrected the woman.

“A small favor? You saved my grandfather  _and_ my tavern. That’s not small at all.”

The woman flushed as the man, Sirius, grinned at her from across the table. “That sounds like something she’d do and try to play off.” He accused fondly, “She’s always been a gallant one.”

Elissa smiled wide. For someone who was always so alone, she had such warm and wonderful people in her life. It made Elissa curious as to how she ended up that way, though. Maybe it was a wizard thing.

She still wasn’t used to thinking that. She was talking to a wizard. (y/n), and most likely, Sirius were wizards.

“Do you need a menu at all?” she asked.

(y/n) shook her head. She didn’t. Unlike the days when she’d just met Harry, she didn’t have to wonder what her companion wants to eat. She knew what Sirius would like and ordered it for him alongside her own meal.

Elissa nodded, going to grab drinks, and letting them talk.

She tended to the bar patrons while keeping her eye on the pair from her various spying spots among the tavern tables.

“ _Now_ who’s she got with her?” Mrs. Weatherly asked as she, Mrs. Baker and Ms. Hallery sat at a table near the door, gossiping and drinking tea.

“An old friend, apparently. Sirius is his name.” Elissa informed as she refilled their teacups with hot water.

Ms. Hallery snorted as she watched them, “Friends, indeed.” She nodded towards the pair, and Elissa turned to see Sirius lean in and whisper something to her as he placed his hand over hers on the table.

(y/n) laughed glowingly, placing her free hand on top of his and patting it.

“Oh, leave them be,” Mrs. Baker scolded, “they _are_ friends. At least, for now. They’ll be together when they’re ready.” Elissa looked back at the Widow once she spoke up. “Funny, they remind me of Herbert and myself when we were young…”

The women stared at the couple in the booth in the corner as they happily talked in their own little bubble.

“I wish someone that attractive would look at me like that.” Ms. Hallery grumbled into her tea.

Mrs. Weatherly sighed, “ _I_ wish Mason still looked at _me_ that way.”

…

Every patron in the bar had their nosy gazes on the couple. Things were always so quiet that something as small as friends grabbing lunch would be the source of scandalous gossip for weeks. (y/n) slightly regretted bringing Sirius here, only because she knew she’d never hear the end of it.

Though she felt every pair of eyes on her, they were easy to forget when Sirius was there, talking to her like they were completely alone.


	8. Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided, once this fic is finished, I'll add an epilogue and a bonus chapter.  
> I'm not going to spoil the epilogue for you, but I will say that the bonus will be the memories that Sirius and the reader use to cast a Patronus charm so...look forward to that.

(y/n) sobbed quietly as she waited for Harry and the others to appear. Remus and Sirius were trying to comfort her, but they couldn’t quite manage.

“He’s having dreams about him, now. All the time. Throughout the summer, he was screaming and crying in his sleep,” She informed tearily, “And yes, it’s good that he was able to save Arthur, and yes, they might help us again in the future, but at what _cost_?”

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her palms as she continued. The two men silently watched as she frantically paced.

“What if Voldemort uses it against him? What if they start _doing_ things to him? If he gets turned into a tool because of these dreams? I won’t allow it. I won’t let Harry near this war. It’s _ours_ to finish, not his. He shouldn’t have to face all of this. I don’t want him to be a pawn in Dumbledore and Voldemort’s _chess game._ ”

Sirius enveloped her in a side hug, rubbing at her upper arm to comfort her.

“He already is a part of this, whether we like it or not. He’s been a part of it since he was a year old.” Remus informed drearily, “All we can do is let him play his part and protect him however we can.”

(y/n) knew he was right, and that’s probably why she was crying so hard.

“Dry your eyes, (n/n). Don’t let him see that you’re scared, it’ll only put more weight on his shoulders.” Sirius urged, “Just, give him this time to enjoy a holiday away from everything.”

…

The Weasleys were handing out gifts and sitting down at the dining table while Christmas music played in the background.

(y/n) sidled up beside Harry, silently sliding a small, silver box towards him.

When he opened it, he found a small, crystal doe lying in tissue paper. It was the one he’d seen countless times next to another glass animal on the kitchen shelves in the cottage.

“It was your mother’s. A crystal figure of her Patronus. The other one is mine… I figured you should have hers.” She whispered sadly as she wrapped her arm around the boy. He silently thanked her as Arthur began to make a toast.

…

As the night went on, the group continued to celebrate in the reading room, as they listened to music, ate food, and enjoyed each other’s company.

It was during this point that a festive, romantic song began to play, and Sirius approached to offer her a dance. She happily accepted, getting up from the couch as she put her hand in his and allowed herself to be led in a slow, graceful circle.

“Oh, look at that.” Molly quietly cheered from where she, Arthur and Remus were watching.

“Honestly, it’s about time,” Remus stated with a hint of fatigue as he shook his head and stared into his drink, “They’ve been mooning after each other since they were fourteen.”

“You know, you and Tonks could be like that if you would just-”

Remus cut her off, not wanting to hear her talk about him and the Metamorphmagus. Harry hadn’t been paying attention, and he honestly still wasn’t fully listening, but as he followed their gaze, he couldn’t help but give the spectacle his full attention.

The way (y/n) had talked about him, he knew she’d loved Sirius, but he’d never really bothered to put the pieces together that she’d loved him _romantically_ , or that he might feel that way in return. Now though, watching as they swayed together, talking so quietly to each other as they danced, Harry knew that if they were given the chance, the two of them could be happy with each other.

Harry found himself smiling. They deserved a happy ending. They’d both lost so much; both suffered _so much_. They deserved to be with each other.

On the one hand, it made Harry so angry--even more so than he’d been recently--that everything up to this point seemed to be working against them. On the other hand, it gave him hope. Despite everything, they still had each other.

They still had time to fall deeply, and truly, in love.

…

(y/n) was hypnotized by the man who was swaying with her. She hadn’t danced in a long time; she hadn’t danced _with_ someone in longer.

“Do you remember the last time we danced together like this?” Sirius asked in a voice so quiet only she could hear.

“James and Lilly’s wedding,” she mused back in a whisper, “You were the Best Man, and every single girl wanted to dance with you, but you danced the whole night with me.”  He hummed affirmatively, thrilled that that was the thing she most remembered about the night. “I never asked you why that was. It was a wedding, there were lots of single girls around, you could have had anyone you wanted that night.”

He chuckled before responding, “Well, you were the Maid of Honor; and my date. Dancing with anyone else would have just been rather dickish. Also, it was _James and Lilly’s_ wedding, I wanted to spend it with the people I loved.”

She giggled lightly, then, as she remembered more about that evening, she laughed a little harder.

“Remember the others that night? Peter was especially sloshed. Do you remember how he…” she drifted off, suddenly sad again as she spoke of the friend they’d lost to something _worse_ than death.

He shushed her, though she’d quieted herself already.

“I know it’s hard to think about the good old days without remembering everything after, but that doesn’t mean we have to pretend he never existed. He was our friend, too, back then.”

She nodded, trying to bring back a happier topic as they continued to sway.

“…Do you remember how he’d chanted at us to kiss, and everyone joined in thinking he was cheering on Lilly and James?” she finally finished the sentence she started after struggling to come up with a natural topic change.

He hadn’t remembered that, though he did have a vague memory of Peter chanting for _someone_ to kiss. He must have assumed they were chanting for Lilly and James, too. He would give anything to go back to that moment, just so he could relive it; go back and actually kiss her as the party had suggested.

How different would his life be if he’d developed feelings for (y/n) during their years at Hogwarts?

That was a dumb question, and he knew it. He _had_ developed feelings for her then, but he’d been too blind to notice. He’d been in love with her since she’d sassed him flatly about not knowing who she was. Since he watched her hit a bludger so hard it cracked her bat, sending the ball flying into the stomach of a Ravenclaw Seeker. Since she headbutted Lucius Malfoy for picking on a first-year muggle-born. Since she spat in the face of blood-purists as a short, angry, fifth-year, boldly shouting ‘no’. Since he’d seen her softly and sincerely comfort others after standing over them and bravely facing their attackers. His feelings had been right under his nose, and he’d never noticed them, much like the three-and-a-half school years when he hadn’t noticed _her_. All this time; _wasted_.

He came out of his thoughts as he watched her gaze shift to the ceiling above their heads where the twins had just cast a bit of mistletoe to form. The couple could hear them snickering and congratulating themselves from the corner and flushed.

He looked back down at her, drinking her in. Her cheeks were pinker than anything a cold winter night could accomplish, and she was scanning his face, searching for _something_. He squeezed the hand holding hers, and leaned down a bit, allowing their noses to brush, and then settle next to each other as he leaned his forehead on hers.

She could feel his breath on her face and her blood pumping in her veins as her heart hammered. She had to calm down, it was just Sirius, right? But then, that was the problem. ‘Just Sirius’ was exactly what she’d always wanted. They were so close. He was waiting for her. Giving her the choice. All she had to do was lean up on her toes just a little…

But she couldn’t.

It took every shred of restraint she had to pull away. The look in his eyes made her want to cry, so she turned her gaze to the floor instead. He looked like she’d just stabbed him in the gut. She _felt_ like she’d just stabbed _herself_ in the gut.

“I… I’m so sorry-” she started, swallowing hard as she forced herself to look him in the eyes and apologize, “I’m sorry. I just… Can’t. I _can’t_.”

She’d looked back up, therefore, she’d begun to cry. She hurried from the room, leaving everyone in an atmosphere of awkward gloom. Begrudgingly, George shoved a few galleons into his twin’s waiting palm.

She was almost out the door when Harry caught her. “What are you doing?” he questioned, slightly frustrated with her.

She didn’t turn to look at him, keeping her hand on the front doorknob as she quietly said, “Enjoy the rest of winter break and your time with Sirius, I’ll see you in the summer.”

“You can’t just leave, especially not like that. I _know_ you want to be with him, so why are you running?” he pressed.

“Because I’m scared, James!” she shouted tearily as she turned.

They were both quiet as she realized what she’d called him. She put her hand over her mouth as she took in his shocked expression. “I’m…I’m sorry, Harry, I just…I forget sometimes. That he’s gone. Then, I look at you, and I realize…you’re the closest I’m ever going to get to seeing him again. Or Lilly.”

There was a beat of silence, and she knew that the others were listening in. There was no way they weren’t. Not after what she’d just yelled.

She was quiet as she continued, “When I lost Sirius, I was so…anguished. It took a long time to recover. If I get any closer, and then I lose him _again_ ,” she shook her head, before she finished in a weak, small whisper, “I’ll shatter.”

At that, Sirius appeared in the hall, obviously having listened to what she’d said. He moved towards her, attempting to get to her before she could leave, so he could convince her to stay. To stay there. To stay with him.

When she saw him advancing on her, she panicked, swinging the door open, and running into the night before apparating mid-sprint.

He stared after her from the doorway, not able to tear his gaze away from the place she’d just disappeared until Remus clapped him on the shoulder, sympathetic as he pulled his friend back inside.

…

She apparated back into her living room, forcing herself to slow down before she ran into the wall of books.  Right in front of where she stopped, placed between tomes about Herbology and Horoscopes, was a framed picture from Lilly and James’s wedding.

It was of her and Sirius. In the picture, he was in a red and gold suit with a tail, gloves, and everything, while she was in a strapless, yellow gown. he was spinning her, and spinning her, and spinning her, before he abruptly stopped, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her to him so she could recover from the dizzying sensation. Her eyes were scrunched shut, but she had a big, bright smile on her face as she laughed. It matched the one on his face as he looked down at her with amusement in his eyes.

She gently took the picture as she moved to sit on her couch. She covered her mouth with her empty hand as she, for the countless time, began to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c  
> (I'm a little shit, I know.)


	9. Now, It's fluff to the end, I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is basically me after reading The Order of the Phoenix, clutching the book to my chest and sobbing while saying "I can fix this. I can fix you."

After Christmas, (y/n) requested that Tonks take over checking in on Sirius. The younger woman hesitantly agreed, having heard through Remus what had happened over Christmas break.

“You know, if you ask me, I think it’s better to lose something than spend the rest of your life longing for what you might have had.” The woman had told her when (y/n) had asked the favor.

The woman had glared at the metamorphmagus, who had promptly thrown up her hands in a sign of submission, “I’m just saying…You know, you and Remus are a lot alike, I can see why you’re friends.”

She muttered the second part rather sadly as she’d turned to end the conversation. (y/n) hadn’t seen Tonks, or Sirius, since then.

She knew Tonks was right. In fact, she agreed with the woman. She hadn’t been able to get a reprieve from the crashing waves of regret since she left that night.

What was she supposed to say, though? She’d rejected him, and fled from him as he was finally, _finally_ reciprocating her feelings. Was she just supposed to turn back up at his house and say, ‘whoopsie, my mistake!’ and grab him by the shirt collar?

Sure, that _was_ one option, and he might go along with it, but she couldn’t face the possibility that he might not; that she might’ve missed her window, or he wasn’t willing to forgive her. He’d always had a sensitive sense of pride, what if she’d damaged it?

…

It was the middle of the night, and there was an incessant knock on her door that had her up, hurrying from her bed to see what was going on. Moody was at her door, as were a few other Order members.

She blinked, tired and a little aggravated as she questioned what they were doing there.

All Moody had to say was, “It’s Potter,” and she was fully awake, rushing to put on real clothes so she could follow them into the night.

…

When she finally managed to get there, the battle was already in full swing. She instantly regretted coming when she met eyes with Sirius’s cousin, Bellatrix.

(y/n) steadied her breathing as she began to lock herself in battle with the crazed woman.

The thing was, (y/n) wasn’t the best when it came to spells.

Give her a bat and a broom, and she’ll beat bludgers belligerently. Prune a perennial puffapod plant? No problem! Potions? Perfect!

Anything that had some sort of connection to the way muggles do things: sports, botany, chemistry; if she could find the connection, she had no trouble picking up the subject, but charms and spells had always been a disconnect.

Never was that more apparent than when she was dueling.

She chased Bellatrix around the room as best she could, but she was no match for the other woman. She was losing, badly. It wasn’t until Lucius had been disarmed and defeated, and Bellatrix shifted her attention away, that (y/n) was able to catch her breath before it completely left her.

It took her a fraction of a second to realize what Bellatrix was planning to do as she rounded on Sirius and Harry.

Her heart lurched, as did her stomach as she heard Bellatrix begin to utter the most unforgivable of all curses. She didn’t think, she simply acted as she apparated in front of Sirius, throwing up a desperate ‘protego’ that she wasn’t even half sure was going to work.

She heard the surprise and the panic in the man’s voice as his arms wrapped securely around her, attempting to shift her out of the spell’s blast. Something else wrapped around her, too, even more securely than the arms of the man she loved. Warm, and comforting, and secure; right before she felt the spell hit, blasting both her and Sirius back into the far wall of the room. The tile cracked where they’d hit and fell around them. Sirius covered her as best he could, but she wouldn’t have felt it if any debris had hit her, she was out cold.

Sirius shook her after the dust settled, calling desperately for her to wake up, but she was limp in his grasp.

Harry felt himself go blank as he watched Sirius desperately try to shake the woman awake. She was…gone? It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. She’d promised she’d always be there for him, she couldn’t just… _go._

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Bellatrix trying to make an escape, and in a burst of rage, he chased after her.

…

Sirius shook her again, still not getting a response. She was just, gone. She’d been so terrified of him leaving her, she’d decided to leave first. With nothing else to do, he clutched her to him, leaning his head against her chest.

That’s when he heard it. Faint, but it was definitely still there.

Her heartbeat.

He pulled away again, brushing the hair from her face as he called out again, softer, this time. he saw her eyebrows scrunch as she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them with a flurry of blinks.

“Shit, that felt so much weirder than I thought it was going to.” She huffed, trying to sit up, looking around, completely confused as to why she wasn’t 100% dead.

Everyone else in the room seemed just as surprised as her.

“What the bloody hell were you _thinking_?” Sirius barked at her as he clutched her to him.

“I was thinking about something Remus said; All I can do is let you play your part, and protect you however I can.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he continued to inspect her for injuries. She gripped the hand that was combing through her hair as he held her. She was in pain and exhausted, but she needed to let him know what she’d been thinking about since she ran out of 12 Grimmauld Place on Christmas night.

“Sirius, I…I’m scared of losing you because I don’t want to get hurt again, but more than that, I’m scared of losing a future with you.”

He shook his head, not fully understanding what she was trying to say.

“Sirius, I love you. I loved you before you even knew I existed, and I…I want to be with you. Even if I end up getting hurt in the end.”

She could feel his heart pounding under her hand, and he gave her a stupid grin as he leaned in, feeling himself thrill when she leaned, too, before she pulled back again with a gasp.

Sirius growled, burying his face in the nape of her neck as he growled, “You’re _killing_ me, (l/n).”

He brought himself back to the situation when she’d lightly smacked him and asked with a voice colder than stone, “Where’s Harry?”

They stared at each other, both carrying the face of a worried parent as they scrambled to help each other up and down the corridor the others were pointing them towards.

Every muscle in her body ached, but she clutched Sirius’s hand and ran as fast as her wobbling legs could carry her.

…

They’d reached him just as Voldemort was disappearing from sight. Seeing him, truly seeing him, and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he was out there…it was almost unreal in an unsettlingly bone-chilling way.

She didn’t linger too long on it though as she and Sirius both rushed forward to help Harry, as it seemed the boy was unconscious. They took two steps in that direction before (y/n) paused, shoving Sirius back around the corner and out of view as she spotted the reporters and the arriving Aurors and ministry officials. She silently pleaded with him to stay hidden, and after taking a glance at Harry, then the rising crowd surrounding him, he begrudgingly nodded, turning back down the hall to meet up with the rest of the Order, but not before taking her hand in his and kissing it.

And not without stopping several times to watch as she rushed over beside Dumbledore to cradle their unconscious godson in her arms.

…

Harry awoke about an hour after he’d arrived back at Hogwarts and was placed in the medical wing. Though Sirius had to go straight back into hiding, (y/n) was free to sit in the hospital wing and stay with him.

When his eyes finally fluttered open and he took in the quiet, empty medical wing of Hogwarts, he rushed right up and immediately felt nauseous.

(y/n) hushed him and rubbed his back. “You’re alright, you’re safe. Everything’s fine.”

At the sound of her voice, Harry whipped around to look at her. The last he’d seen her, she’d just been blasted back by an unforgivable curse.

“How did you…?” he questioned her, completely confused.

“I…I don’t know, how did _you_?” she offered up, just as baffled as he was.

“Sirius?” He asked again.

“He’s fine,” She answered.

Harry clung to (y/n), relief filling his whole body knowing that she and Sirius were alright. They were safe. She hugged him back, but her mind was completely somewhere else.

She thought back to that feeling of safety that had washed over her seconds before she’d been blasted by the curse. Had that been what saved her? But what _was_ that? Had it been because she’d loved Sirius enough to die for him? If that’d been all it took, then James and Lilly wouldn’t have died that night. She continued to ponder this as Harry pulled back, fully taking in his surroundings.

She looked around with him. The dark lord really was back, but in the pacific din of the quiet afternoon, you couldn’t really tell.

There was no dread in the air, just an odd sense of peace. It was the calm before the storm, (y/n) knew, the eye of the tornado.  But for now, the papers were vindicating her, Harry and Dumbledore-- some were even speculating Sirius’s innocence, and for the moment, the Ministry has been quieted.

She knew it wouldn’t last, but for now, (y/n) decided she’d enjoy the happiness and peace while she had it.

She thought back to the last time she’d seen Sirius when he’d kissed the back of her hand, and the wiry hairs of his mustache had tickled her skin. She rubbed the appendage affectionately. She’d enjoy everything she had while she had it.


End file.
